Love By The Pound

Cover art by Susan Bodendorfer

ISBN 1-58785-088-5

Electronically published in arrangement with the author

Except for brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews, the reproduction of this work in whole or in part in any form by electronic or mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including printing, faxing, E-mail, or copying electronically, is forbidden without the permission of the publisher, Wordbeams.

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This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialogues in this book are products of the author's imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

For all the big girls who dream and hope. Love yourself first.

Judy Bagshaw

Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three

Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six

Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten Chapter Eleven Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen Chapter Fourteen Chapter Fifteen

About the Author

Chapter One

Sandra Reese stood uncomfortably in the massive line-up being jostled rudely from all sides by loud, rambunctious students. The shy, nervous eighteen-year-old had been standing in this endless line for over an hour waiting to get her dorm room assignment. Her lower back screamed and her feet were killing her in the brand new leather loafers. She kept wishing she had ignored her mother and worn her trusty Birkenstocks. She'd have had some comfort while standing in line. But, of course, her mother had insisted that first impressions were important and had sewn her a new navy blue, knee length, A-line dress for her first day.

"But Mom," Sandra complained. "I'll look like a geek!"

"Hush," her mother scolded. "You will not, either. There's nothing wrong with looking respectable. The A-line disguises your hips and navy is a very slimming color. You look nice dear."

Nice. Right! Her mother could have swathed her in navy from head to toe and she still wouldn't look slim. She was 5'10" and 280 pounds and that was that! And looking around her she did look like a geek. Everyone else was in the standard college uniform of jeans, plaid flannel shirts and beat-up sneakers. She felt like a nun playing hooky from the convent.

She giggled to herself over the image that created in her mind. Her giggle caused the big football type in front of her to turn around and look. Flustered, the embarrassed Sandra dropped her purse and the pile of books in her arms, knocking over her gargantuan suitcase, and drawing even more unwanted attention her way. Oh God, would this torture never end? As she knelt to pick up her things, a loud female voice said,

"Here, let me help you." In gratitude, Sandra looked up to smile at a stranger's kindness and was startled by the vision before her.

The girl was her age, about 5'6" with short black spiked hair. Her dark eyes twinkled with impish amusement. Sandra counted 3 pierced earrings in each ear and was astonished to see the girl sporting a nose ring. As the punkish girl handed Sandra her books, Sandra noticed the assortment of silver rings on her fingers and one on her thumb, as well as a wide silver bangle on the upper part of her left arm with a strange old world symbol engraved on it. Her tight ragged black jeans, combat boots, and black muscle shirt accentuated her tiny, wiry frame. Her outlandish ensemble was completed by the man's plaid shirt tied around her waist.

"There you go," the girl said, dropping the books in Sandra's arms.

"Thank you," Sandra said, completely mesmerised by this vision and feeling even frumpier. She watched as the slender girl boldly threaded her way through the crowd towards the dorm wings. Gosh, she wished she could move as gracefully as that girl. She always felt like such a clod. She'd never seen anyone quite like her before, except maybe downtown in the city and never up close like that. Who was she? Where was she from? What was her story?

There you go again, Sandra, she thought to herself. You always have to know everyone's story. Always the people watcher, never a participant.

"Hey, do you mind?" The loud, rude voice behind her grabbed her attention and she saw that the line had moved forward while she'd been occupied.

"Sorry," she said breathlessly, dragging her suitcase forward and not daring to look at the person she had offended. Things like that happened all the time. She'd get so interested in speculating about people she saw, that she'd wind up in an awkward situation and feel like a fool. What will it be like when I'm doing this for a living, she thought.

It was apparent that she'd have another wait until her turn. Sandra thought back to that last day's preparation at home. Her cousin, Victoria, had come to stay the last week before school. She was starting at the same college as Sandra and her parents were off on a business trip to Japan. Desperate, Sandra had turned to her cousin for some support.

"Tell her, Vic," she had pleaded. "Tell her that I'll stick out like a sore thumb."

"I don't think so," Victoria said much to Sandra's chagrin. "Your mom has a point. Navy is a slimming color and the cut of the dress is classic and flattering."

"See," Mrs. Reese said, smiling at her niece, who smiled in return. "You're just being silly. You look fine."

"Mom," Sandra said, not willing to give up, "no one wears dresses at school. No one. Tell her Vic." She glared at her cousin, daring her to contradict.

"It's true, Aunt Sylvia. These days, everyone wears jeans and baggy shirts and combat boots." Sandra cast a see-I-told-you-so look in her mother's direction. But Victoria continued. "But that wouldn't suit Sandra. Sandra needs to set her own style. That's what all the glamorous women do. They don't follow trends. They start them. I mean, look at what you want for a career. A private detective. That's certainly unusual."

Was it paranoia, or did Sandra sense ridicule in her cousin's voice?

"Honestly," said her mother with a derisive snort. "A detective. It would be far more sensible for you to study to be a nurse or a teacher, Sandra. How on earth do you ever expect to make a living..."

Sandra tuned out the same old lecture. Her parents would never understand. Sandra had a fierce curiosity about other people's motives. She loved to solve puzzles. She was forever watching people in crowds, assessing their body language, speculating about their lives. It was a career choice her parents simply couldn't fathom. They saw it as being in the same category as a little boy's dream to be a cowboy.

"...There!" Her mother sat back and surveyed her handiwork. "I think that's it. You look very nice, dear."

"It suits you, Sandy," Victoria said.

Sandra knew that she'd never win the argument. Not with two of them against her. And where did Vicky get all this glamour woman stuff? Did she honestly expect Sandra to swallow that she was a trendsetter? Now Victoria might be able to get away with that. She was tall, willowy and blonde, the perfect cover girl type. She had big baby-blue eyes and long fluttery lashes and she just seemed to know how to wrap the world around her little finger.

Sandra really didn't like her cousin all that much. She always felt that Victoria was laughing at her. Granted, Victoria never did anything overt, but there were little digs now and again about Sandra's height or her weight or her personality, or other similar slights. Sandra sometimes wondered if she was jealous of her oh-so-perfect cousin, or maybe she was just feeling insecure. But whatever, she wasn't entirely happy that Victoria would be on campus with her to hog the limelight.

At last, after what seemed an interminable wait, Sandra reached the front of the line.

"Sandra Reese," she informed the frazzled woman on the other side of the desk.

"Reese...Reese...Randell...Rawlins...Reese! Here we are," the woman said. "You're in a double with Danielle Santorelli. That's Room G3-oh--"

"A double!" Sandra interrupted. "No, I asked for a single. I specifically requested a single."

"You a first year student?" the woman asked, nonplussed.

"Yes."

"Then you're in a double," the woman said with finality. "All first years are in a double." And she handed Sandra her stamped papers. "That's G3-oh-7."

"But--" Sandra began, unwilling to give up.

"You better get moving, honey," the woman drawled." You're holding up the line."

"Yes ma'am," Sandra said, crestfallen. "Sorry."

Hugging her books and picking up her heavy, over-sized suitcase, Sandra headed slowly down the hallway to the dorms. She was very upset. An extremely shy, self-conscious girl, she'd never had to share a room before, ever! She couldn't imagine having to room with a perfect stranger. It was unthinkable. But what was she going to do. She couldn't go home. Her mother and father had dropped her off hours ago and were probably home by now. Even if she called them, they'd never let her leave now. She could just hear them.

"Dear, you must learn to try new experiences," her mother would say. "It's good for you to broaden your horizons. I shared a room when I went to college." Yeah, in the dark ages!

"Your mother's right, Kitten," her dad would say in agreement, for he always seemed to agree with his wife. "You shouldn't be so shy."

How could she tell her father that life had made her shy? Being teased at school for being so big had made her self-conscious. Being ignored in high school by most of the boys had made her feel ugly and invisible. Not being able to buy cute clothes, like her friends and Victoria could, had made her feel freakish and abnormal. Yes, she was shy but with good reason.

She hated feeling this way. She longed to be light-hearted and free of worrying about what others thought of her. She dreamed of being hip and cool and thoroughly eccentric, like the strange girl who had helped her today. Wouldn't her mother freak if she arrived home with a nose ring?

Sandra chuckled at the thought. Her suitcase was feeling like so much lead on the end of her arm that her fingers were beginning to go numb. Overheated from the unaccustomed exertion, Sandra set down her case to lift her long, thick chestnut brown hair off her shoulders and from her face. The heat caused the naturally curly hair to frizz and Sandra thought with dismay, she'd soon resemble a collie dog if she didn't cool down. Well, since she had no choice, she'd just have to face whatever waited for her in her dorm-room. She was sure that Vicky was probably already in her own room, staking her claim and running rampant over whoever was unlucky enough to be her roommate. She was relieved that her parents hadn't insisted that she room with the gorgeous blonde. Sandra felt a twinge of guilt at her unflattering thoughts about her cousin, but quickly swallowed it.

The dorms were built into two wings that jutted out on either side of the upper section of the college that housed the administration offices and some professors' offices. Each wing was divided into four houses, A through H. Each house had a small apartment for the dorm monitor, usually a single professor or an older post-graduate student, plus three floors of rooms that housed up to twenty-eight first and second year students. Light housekeeping was provided. Each week, rooms were vacuumed and dusted and bedding was changed.

After climbing what seemed like a dozen flights of stairs but were in reality three short flights, Sandra arrived at G House, Room 307; her home for the next seven and a half months. She nervously put her key in the lock. The room was very quiet. Maybe the other girl wasn't here yet. Good. That would give her time to establish herself and freshen up before meeting this stranger she would be sharing with.

But her luck for the day held true, for upon entering the room, she found she wasn't alone. Her confoundedness was complete when she saw who occupied the space. Sitting cross-legged on the far single bed was none other than her saviour from the line-up. Her bent head bopped in time to whatever tune was playing on the Walkman as she thumbed through a magazine. She didn't notice Sandra's presence at first.

It was Sandra; once again losing her grip on her books that caught the girl's attention. She chuckled, removing the headphones as Sandra muttered a curse and bent to retrieve the offensive books.

"Looks like you got a terminal case of dropsy today," the girl said, a grin filling her gamin face.

"I feel like such a klutz," Sandra said, in embarrassed soft tones.

"Ah, don't worry about it. Everyone's frazzled today. That's why I got here yesterday so I could get settled in."

"I didn't know you could come early," Sandra said, heaving her suitcase onto the end of the bed.

"Yeah, well, I don't think they liked it," the girl said, "but I don't really care. I just kinda brazened my way in."

"I wouldn't have the nerve," Sandra said, smiling in admiration.

"Stick with me, kid," the girl said cockily. "I got nerve enough for both of us. My name's Danny Santorelli. What's yours?"

"Sandra Reese." Sandra smiled shyly.

"What are you in for?" Danny asked.

"I beg your pardon?" Sandra was finding it hard to keep up with Danny's humor. Danny's chuckle let her know that she was aware of Sandra's predicament.

"Sorry. Too many cop shows, I guess," Danny said. "What are you going to study here?"

"Oh," Sandra said, feeling a bit foolish for missing the point. "Psychology, probably. I'm fascinated by what makes people tick."

"Gonna be a headshrinker?"

"No," Sandra said, suddenly feeling shy about discussing her dreams. "I'd like to...what I'd really like to do..."

"Go on," Danny encouraged gently.

Looking into Danny's eyes, Sandra felt she was with someone she could trust.

"I want to be a detective." She held her breath waiting for the laughter that was invariably the response to her revelation.

"Cool!" Sandra's eyes flew wide as she took in the open interest on Danny's face.

"But why not go to cop school?" Danny asked.

Sandra reddened in response. "It's obvious, isn't it?"

"Whaddya mean?" Danny seemed genuinely perplexed.

"Well, I hardly meet the size requirements," Sandra said wryly looking down at her chunky body.

"Oh," was Danny's only response. "So, will you open your own agency or work for one?"

Sandra just stared at this surprising girl and then laughed. She laughed until tears flowed freely down her cheeks. She laughed until her legs got weak and forced her to sit down.

"What's so funny?" Danny laughed along with her.

"I don't know," Sandra said, sending the girls into gales of helpless laughter once more. Minutes later, they were both reaching for tissue to repair the damage their outburst had caused.

"You're a crazy one, that's for sure!" Danny said.

"I'm not usually like that," Sandra said, blotting at her face. "But I have never met anyone like you before, Danny. You're so accepting and kind. I didn't know what to say."

"So you decided to have a giddy fit instead!" teased the smaller girl.

"Yep." Sandra grinned. "I hope the thought of me as a roommate isn't too scary now."

"Well, Sandy, not too much. And it looks like you're stuck with me for the year. I hope the thought doesn't scare you too much."

Sandra laughed at Danny's self-deprecating humor.

"I imagine we'll muddle along," she said. And she realized she meant it. She didn't mind anymore that she had to share the room, if it meant she'd be around this irreverent creature. Now the year held the promise of excitement and adventure.

Danny looked at her speculatively for a moment, then burst into another wide grin.

"I think we will at that," she said.

Chapter Two

Sandra's first month of school passed in a whirl of adjusting to classes, purchasing endless numbers of books and school supplies, first assignments, getting to know the campus, and becoming best friends with Danny. The warm autumn sun seemed to smile on her every day, a reflection of her utter contentment. The glorious golds, reds and oranges of the fall foliage were a perfect backdrop for her coloring and her mood.

Her roommate lived up to any expectations that Sandra had. She was wild and unpredictable, funny and kind, tough but caring; an endless source of surprises for the shy and inexperienced Sandra. The biggest surprise by far had been that her punkish roommate was in pre-law.

They complemented each other perfectly. Danny, though smart, was rather haphazard about her school responsibilities, and Sandra made sure that she got assignments done and handed in on time. Sandra had a tendency to hole up in the room working, so Danny made sure she got out and socialized every once in a while.

Through Danny, Sandra made a small circle of interesting, fun friends.

Amber and Erin King were identical twins from a small town out west. They had brilliant red hair and loud, uninhibited laughs. They embraced the fashions and philosophies of the sixties, and looked for all the world like two Haight-Ashbury hippies.

Garth Benson was an intense aspiring artist. Dressed in black from head to toe, his bleached blond hair a decided contrast to his dark skin, he brooded constantly and was always expressing his cynical opinions on all subjects.

Rita Wong was second generation Chinese. She was a brilliant student, achieving A's in all her subjects. However, she rebelled at the intense pressure from her parents to excel and was developing into a party animal. Stunningly exotic, it was clear that Garth favored her, and Danny and Sandra were sure that something was going on between them.

The last of their regular group of pals was Randy West. Randy was a carefree, happy-go-lucky kind of guy. He played guitar and seemed indifferent to his classes. He would rather hang out with his friends or make music than anything. Sandra thought he was utterly fascinating.

Part of the fascination was his talent. When he played and sang, Sandra got goosebumps. He had a deep, rich baritone and sang songs of love lost and won, heartbreak and broken dreams. He had a disarming way of looking people straight in the eye when he talked or listened to them--as if the other person was the only one he was interested in. It didn't hurt that he was tall, muscular and terribly good-looking, with thick sandy colored hair that fell charmingly over his forehead, and intense blue eyes that sparkled with humor.

And he was always so nice to Sandra. From the start, he would hug her hello and good-bye. She realized that he hugged all his female friends that way, but she fancied that their hugs were slightly more prolonged and special. He was solicitous to her opinions and ideas and complimented her on insights and achievements.

They often had coffee together after a philosophy class they both attended and they could easily wile away a couple of hours arguing metaphysics. He brought out her natural sense of humor, long repressed in the agonies of her childhood. She delighted in entertaining him so that she could hear his deep, rumbling laugh. It was no wonder that she found herself falling for him and wondering if perhaps he felt the same for her.

It was Danny who finally confronted Sandra about her feelings for Randy. It came about after a pub night where Randy had persuaded Sandra to sing a duet with him. They had secretly rehearsed the number for the pub amateur show. Blessed with a sweet, lilting contralto voice, Sandra had always loved to sing. But no one had ever encouraged her talent. No one until Randy. The crowd in the pub was highly receptive to the duo, offering a rousing round of applause and cheers, led most enthusiastically by Danny and the rest of the gang. The greatest reward had been Randy's kiss; a soft, gentle press of the lips--in front of everyone, making Sandra blush to the tips of her toes.

"So what's with you and Randy?" Danny had teased, a delighted grin on her face. Sandra had blushed again.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"Well, forgive me," Danny continued, "but I couldn't help but notice the smooch last night on stage."

"Oh that," Sandra said, at a loss for words.

"Yes, that. Is there something you haven't told me? Hmmm? Come on, girlfriend. Dish!"

"If you mean is there something between Randy and me, I don't think so...oh, I don't know," Sandra said.

"Instead of thinking, what do you feel?" Danny probed.

Sandra looked at her friend, pleading silently that she not tease or laugh at her. Danny understood, as only close friends can.

"Look," Danny continued. "I happen to think you two would make a great couple."

"Really?" Sandra said in surprised wonder.

"Oh yeah. Look how well you two get along. And you're really relaxed in his company. I've seen how you laugh and kinda light up when he's around. And he seems to like your company too. He doesn't go out for coffee with any of the rest of us, or secretly practice duets with us either. He only does those with you. I think he likes you."

"Do you really think so?"

"Don't you?" Danny asked.

"Well..." Sandra began, then continued in a rush. "I wondered 'cause he pays a lot of attention to me and he's been so nice and then he kissed me, but, I can't really tell. I mean...” and here she hesitated, "I don't have anything to compare it with."

Danny looked at her closely. "You mean, you've never had a boyfriend before?"

"No."

"Oh." Danny was at a slight loss for words but recovered quickly. "Well, that doesn't really matter," she said. "What matters is what you're going to do about Randy."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, are you going to ask him out?"

"Me! Shouldn't I wait for him to ask me out?"

Danny looked somewhat exasperated. "Get with it, honey. Women can do the asking too."

"But I wouldn't know how!" Sandra began to panic slightly.

"Honestly! What would you do without me?" Danny said. "Look, there's a dance next Friday at the Red Onion. Why don't you ask him to that?"

"You think I should?" Sandra chewed absently on her nails.

"It's not my decision," said Danny. "But if I were you, I'd go for it. Tell you what. If you ask Randy, I'll ask that cute guy in my Humanities class. We can double. What do you say?"

Sandra took a deep breath. "Okay, I'll do it."

But it was easier said than done. She avoided Randy for three days, even skipping her philosophy class to delay the moment when she'd have to screw up the courage to ask him.

Randy had precipitated the moment by showing up at her dorm room door later that afternoon. She was stunned to find him on her doorstep.

"Hi. I was a little worried when you didn't come to class," he said. "I thought I'd check in and see if you were all right."

"Oh, thanks," she said, gesturing for him to come in and take a seat. "I had a little headache." It was only a small fib,"...but I feel better now. Can I make you a coffee or tea."

"Coffee, thanks." Stretched out on Danny's bed, his crooked arm holding up his head, he looked the very picture of relaxation. "Do you want me to fill you in on class today?"

"Sure." For the next half-hour, he recounted the class and his views on some of the key points, while Sandra made them coffee and then listened enraptured. She started noticing things about him she'd never registered before. Like, the dimple in his chin that made it look so rugged. And the way the lines appeared on his forehead when he was making a point. She watched his eyebrows that lent such expression to his face. His words faded as she concentrated on taking inventory of his many attributes.

"Sandra?" She shook herself out of her reverie.

"Yes?"

"I asked what you thought of my last argument," he said.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I guess I wasn't really listening," she confessed.

"Gee thanks."

"No, I didn't mean that," she said, embarrassed to have been caught daydreaming. "I just have something on my mind."

"What's that?"

"Well..." she began, thinking, here goes nothing, "I was wondering...that is, if you're not busy or anything..." She paused, uncertain just how to put things.

"Yes?"

"Will you go to the dance with me next Friday night?" There, it was out. She held her breath, hardly daring to look at him.

"Sure, why not," he said casually without hesitation.

Sandra expelled her breath heavily. "You will? Really?"

"Sure," he said, smiling. "What are friend's for? But I warn you. I'm a lousy dancer."

"That's okay," she said, her heart racing with joy. "I'm just glad you're willing to go."

"Why wouldn't I? It'll be fun. I'll pick you up around eight, okay?"

"Sure," she said breathlessly.

"Great." He pulled himself up off the bed. "I've got to go now. I have a class in twenty minutes. Are we all still meeting at the pub later?"

"Sure, I think so," said Sandra.

"Great, see you later." And he left.

Sandra sat in stunned silence for a few moments and then whooped with sheer happiness.

"Whoaaa!" said Danny as she entered the room. "You just win the lottery or something?"

"Better!" Sandra beamed a smile. "He said yes!"

"Who..." Danny began and then the light of understanding leaped into her eyes. "He did? I told you!!" She hugged Sandra fiercely, giggling with her. "Well then we've both had banner days, cause Chris said he'd go with me too."

Chapter Three

"...and my Shakespeare course is okay, but really hard. There's so much reading to do. Honestly, Mom, I don't think these professors talk at all to each other because they all give us work like they're the only course we have!" Sandra paused to take a breath. She listened, then made a wry face at Danny who giggled at Sandra's saucy reaction to her mother's words.

"Yes, Mom, I'm keeping up on my work," she said, slightly sarcastically. She listened again.

"Yeah, we get along great," she responded shooting a grin Danny's way. "She's super! Loads of fun!" She almost burst out laughing as Danny crossed her eyes and covered her ears, falling dramatically back on the bed.

"And Mom?" Sandra began, casting a significant look in Danny's direction. "I have a date next Friday." She listened carefully to her mother's reply.

"He's one of the guys in the crowd I hang around with. His name's Randy and he's really nice."

Again she paused. Her face flushed.

"No Mom, it's not like that. We're just friends. He's a nice guy. He's not a creep. Look, Mom, I've really got to go. I'll call you next week and tell you all about the weekend. Bye Mom." Hanging up, she let out a mock roar of frustration and collapsed on her bed.

"Honestly, she treats me like I'm five years old! She had the nerve to insinuate that Randy was taking advantage of me just because I haven't had much experience with guys. Sometimes she makes me so mad!" Sandra said sourly.

"It's just cause you're an only kid," Danny said. "It's harder for your mom to let go. Try coming from a family like mine and your parents can't wait for you to fly the coop."

Sandra and Danny did come from two different worlds. It was a big part of what had made them click as friends.

Sandra's parents, Sylvia and Harold Reese, had been surprised by Sylvia's pregnancy ten years into their marriage. Sylvia was a young schoolteacher when she met the shy construction foreman on a blind date. They found they suited one another and got married. At first, children were out of the question as Sylvia had encouraged her husband to start his own construction firm and they felt they couldn't afford children. Then once the company was a successful enterprise, they found getting pregnant wasn't easy. When Sylvia turned thirty-five, she decided that they were destined to be childless and she put all her energies into her job and her husband. A year later, quite unexpectedly, she found that she had indeed conceived. After the initial shock had worn off, she and Harold were delighted at the prospect. Sylvia had a difficult pregnancy and Sandra arrived a month prematurely. Worried that she wouldn't thrive, Sandra was put on an enriched formula designed to accelerate her growth in those first nervous months. As she developed into a fat, happy baby, her parents breathed a sigh of relief. The doctors then told Sylvia and Harold that it was fairly certain they would never have any other children. So with characteristic practicality, they poured all their hopes, dreams and expectations on their precious daughter.

Danny's parents, Loretta and Carlo Santorelli, had grown up in the same neighborhood and knew each other all their lives. They started dating at age thirteen and married at eighteen. Within the year, the first of their six children arrived. Both grew up in large, ebullient families, so the prospect of their own brood was natural.

If Carlo had been disappointed that his first three children had been girls, he never expressed it. He delighted in his little princesses as he called them and encouraged them to become strong, independent women.

Carla, his namesake and the eldest, worked with her father in his thriving neighborhood store, Santorelli Meats. She was married, with three children of her own. Marie opted to continue her education and was a schoolteacher. Married, with a three-year-old set of twins, she and her lawyer husband moved west to the other side of the country. Renata, devout in her Catholic faith, chose a life in the church. Loretta and Carlo were very proud of their daughter, the nun. Michael, the only Santorelli son, was his father's pride and joy. He completed a business degree at University and could have had his pick of any of a number of corporate jobs. But he chose to return home and join his father's business. It was clearly understood that he would inherit the business one day. Sophie, the sister closest to Danny's age, was to be married within the month to a highly respected young doctor she met while studying nursing. The last of the Santorelli brood was Danny. As the baby of the family, she was a somewhat spoiled, much too outspoken, and a bit of a rebel. But she was thoroughly nice and kind, with a puppy dog's enthusiasm for life.

Sandra could sit by the hour listening to stories about her best friend's family. She marveled at the sheer size of the clan and envied the love and support so evident there. She remembered the first time she'd seen the family photo Danny kept on her bedside table.

"This is your family?" Sandra couldn't disguise the awe at the size of the clan.

"Yep," Danny said. "Indecent, isn't it? Who has families that big in this day and age? My parents musta been part rabbit."

"Danny!" Danny laughed at the shocked expression on Sandra's face.

"I'm just kidding," Danny said. Sandra wasn't a hundred percent convinced. She looked closely at the photo. It was a wedding shot; gorgeous bride, handsome groom, happy family.

"Who's who?" Sandra asked.

Danny pointed to the bride. "That's my big sister Carla. Beside her is Marie on the left and Renata on the right."

"I thought Renata was a nun." Sandra looked closely at the attractive, conservatively dressed girl in the photo.

"She is. It's a very modern order. Regular clothes and stuff. She works as a social worker with handicapped adults." Danny continued through the picture. "That's Sophie, the one that's gonna be married. And that's my super brother, Mikey." She was pointing at the man Sandra had assumed was the groom.

"I thought he was the groom," she said, taking a closer look at the man. He was, in a word, gorgeous. Not the kind of gorgeous where you think he's prettier than most women are. But the kind of rugged gorgeous that makes you know he's all man; virile, strong but with a good heart. Sandra felt herself flush as the thought flashed through her mind that he probably had a great body. She cast a glance at Danny as if her thoughts could be overheard. But Danny just continued to point to the picture unaware of the embarrassment evident on Sandra's face.

"That's my mom. Doesn't she look pretty?" Sandra saw a short, plump, pleasant looking woman, her face wreathed in a huge, proud smile. Beside her, his arm pulling her close was Danny's dad, looking out of place in his tuxedo, his chest swelled with pride that matched his wife's. This was obviously a happy and supportive family.

"You don't look like yourself without the nose ring," Sandra teased.

"My mother would have killed me," Danny said. "She said it wasn't seemly for a bridesmaid. For one day, I consented to look ordinary."

Sandra laughed. "You could never look ordinary!"

"Gee thanks." Danny was genuinely pleased.

Sandra was excited. She was going to spend the weekend in the city with Danny and her family. It was the first time she'd ever spent a night at a girlfriend's house and she was looking forward to the adventure.

"Are you sure it's okay with your mom and dad that I'm coming this weekend?" Sandra asked for the hundredth time.

"Will you stop being so anxious," Danny scolded good-naturedly. "I told ya. Mom and Pops are used to a brood around. Since my sisters got married and moved out, the house seems kinda empty to them. They'll spoil us silly just because they're so thrilled to have bodies around. Besides, I've told them so much about you already, they're dying to meet ya! Within minutes of meeting you, they'll probably have you waiting on customers in the store and being fitted for a bridesmaid dress for Sophie's wedding."

Sandra laughed at Danny's wry expression, but then she turned serious. "What if they don't like me?"

"Honest to Pete! Will you listen to yourself?" Danny was exasperated. "What's not to like? I like you, so they'll like you."

"I wish I looked like you," Sandra said wistfully, admiring her friend's slim build and cute features.

"Why?" Danny seemed genuinely puzzled.

"Well," Sandra began hesitantly. She'd really never discussed her feelings about her weight with anyone before. "I wish I was thin like you. You're so pretty."

"You're pretty too," Danny said sincerely. "Being thin isn't everything. My Mom's heavy and so's my sister Carla and both Daddy and my brother-in-law think they're gorgeous."

"Yeah, but most people would say I was too fat." Sandra said sadly.

"Well, most people are dopes!" Danny responded vehemently.

Sandra continued, "My cousin, Victoria, she's tall, willowy, blonde and blue-eyed. Perfect! And everyone thinks she's so beautiful. She's really popular and always has a boyfriend. She keeps telling me I have a pretty face and if I just went on a diet, I'd get a boyfriend too. But she doesn't realize how hard it is. She even offered to give me a dress of hers that I admired if I lost the weight. It's so humiliating."

"Victoria sounds like a dope too," Danny said. "I'm glad I haven't met her yet. I imagine I'd be tempted to knock her down if I did."

Sandra smiled at Danny's ferocity. She believed she might do just that.

"Ah, Vicky's okay, I guess," Sandra said quietly. "She's just so used to being beautiful."

Danny looked closely at her shy friend." You're beautiful too, you know, in your own fashion. I wish I had your gorgeous hair."

"Really?" Sandra said, self-consciously smoothing down her long locks.

"Oh, yeah. My hair is so thin and flyaway that the only way it looks halfway decent is short and spiked to within an inch of its life. I've always wanted long, flowing hair. Men find it very sexy."

"They don't find me sexy," Sandra said wryly. "They find me invisible."

"How would you know?" Danny challenged. "You never give anyone a chance. You hide in the room all the time. You won't go to the pub or dances with me. And you look at the ground when you walk across campus. Face it, kid, you make yourself invisible."

"I know I'm shy. It's just that I've been teased so much about being heavy that I just can't face it anymore. If I pretend that people aren't there, then they can't hurt me."

"But if you don't risk hurt," Danny said softly, "you'll never find happiness. It will walk right by you and you'll never even notice it."

"I guess you're right. But what can I do? I don't have trendy clothes, so I always feel like a geek. I don't know how to talk to people because I'm sure I'll say something stupid. I don't even know how to put on makeup or style my own hair!"

"You don't say stupid things with me," Danny said. "And clothes are easy. We'll hit the thrift shop this afternoon. And as for hair and makeup, well, your hair is great just the way it is, long and parted in the middle. I can easily show you French braids and some simple updo's. It pays to have four older sisters. And you don't need much makeup. You have flawless skin and natural rosy cheeks. A little eye makeup would make your eyes stand out and the only other thing I'd use would be a little lip gloss."

"That sounds easy enough," Sandra said, catching some of Danny's enthusiasm.

"It is!" Danny said. "Look, let's ditch our classes today and go downtown. Do you have some spending money?" Sandra nodded. "Good. I have about forty bucks. Between us we should be able to get you decked out. We'll try out your new look on my family this weekend in preparation for your date with Randy. What do you say?" Sandra grinned and nodded, placing her future in Danny's hands.

The two girls spent a delightful afternoon scouring the many second-hand shops and thrift stores in the large University town, as well as the army-navy surplus and the five and dime store. By afternoon's end, Sandra had several pairs of comfortable, stretchy leggings, a variety of oversize T-shirts and simple blouses, two long, colorful peasant skirts, some long-sleeved oversize men's shirts, a beautiful bulky fisherman's knit pullover and a denim jacket that she just loved. At the five and dime, Danny had talked her into getting some funky junk jewelry and hair clips and bands. A few simple makeup items followed with a bottle of delicate floral cologne.

They were both completely exhilarated when they managed to finally get back to their dorm room.

"Oh, that was so much fun!!" Sandra exclaimed as she collapsed on her bed.

"Yeah, it was great," Danny said, also flopping down with exhaustion. "Haven't you ever done the thrift shop, flea market thing before?"

"Nah. Mom would never be caught dead at a flea market. She believes firmly in making good first impressions. She feels that with my extra weight I need to dress conservatively so as to not draw attention to my chubbiness. I always feel dowdy."

"Sure," Danny said. "All you seem to own is navy and brown. But you look great in that purple and turquoise peasant skirt we got and I really love the yellow blouse on you. It just makes you look so alive! I can hardly wait until we get to the city. You should see the thrift shops there! We'll have a blast!"

Sitting up, Sandra fixed her gaze on Danny.

"Thank you," she said quietly, her eyes filling with tears. "No one has ever been this nice to me before. I can't believe..." She was too choked up to continue.

"Ah, don't get mushy on me now." Danny smiled at her friend. "You're my best friend. Best friends help each other. I mean, look at how you help me with my essays all the time."

"That's nothing," Sandra said.

"It's something to me! Now, enough of this sloppy stuff. What are you going to wear to Mom and Pop's tomorrow?"

The rest of the day was spent in planning and trying on the new purchases. She'd been a little leery about the form fitting leggings, especially the one's in bright colors. But when she saw them with the baggy men's shirts over them, she was delighted to find that they flattered her tall form. She had straight square shoulders and long legs. It was a perfect look for her. Sandra now looked forward to the impending visit. After all, it was a whole new her that was going. A thought flitted through her mind. What would Michael think of her?

On Thursday night, as the girls packed for their weekend, Danny began pulling things out of her wardrobe drawers, and rummaging through all her belongings in the room.

"What are you looking for?" Sandra said.

"My big silver bangle," Danny said. "You know the one. It's two inches wide with the heavy engraving down the centre? The Celtic design?"

"Sure. You had it yesterday. I remember."

"I can't find it," Danny said with exasperation. "Have you seen it?"

"Nope. When did you have it last?"

"I took it off before we went out to the pub last night. I put it right here on my nightstand." Danny stood, her hands on her hips looking down at the now empty nightstand.

"You must have put it away and forgot," Sandra said. Danny shook her head.

"No. I was really beat when we got in. I just crashed. I didn't notice it was gone until just now."

"Is it under the bed?"

"Checked there," Danny said, "and behind the stand. No bracelet."

"That's weird," Sandra said, her curiosity radar coming into play.

"Yes it is. Really weird," Danny said. "You know, Amber lost her turquoise earrings last week. And Rita hasn't been able to find her favorite CD either. It's all too much. Like maybe we have a klepto in residence."

"I was thinking the same thing," Sandra said. "That's a lot of stuff gone missing in a short period of time. All little stuff, easily sold. I wonder if anyone else in our house is missing stuff."

"Is that the detective I see getting roused?" Danny grinned.

"I can't help it," Sandra said, grinning sheepishly. "I don't like unanswered questions. I never have. I need to find the answers."

"Well then, what do we do first, Sherlock?"

The two girls spent the next couple of hours going door to door in their house making a list of missing items. The list became a surprisingly long one. They sat later in their room pondering what it meant.

"Two silver lockets, three bracelets, five CDs, a gold chain, seven pairs of earrings...it's incredible!" Danny said. "We have a full-fledged burglar in our midst!"

"I agree," Sandra said, scanning the list. "Now, I wonder who it is. It has to be someone who's around all the time, who knows everyone's movements, who has easy access to the rooms, whose presence no one would question..." She paused suddenly, a thoughtful expression crossing her face.

"What?" Danny said, watching her friend's intensity increase.

"Could it be?" Sandra said, more to herself than to Danny. "They have access, know our routines, move around freely... Yes! It has to be!"

"What? What?"

"There's only one answer," Sandra said. "Who are the only people in the dorm who can move freely, almost invisibly, have keys to all the rooms and know our routines better than we do?"

Danny screwed up her face in thought, and then the dawn of understanding lit it up.

Together the girls yelled, "Housekeeping!!"

"Of course!" Danny exclaimed. "But how do we prove it."

The two girls carefully concocted a plan for obtaining proof of their suspicions. It was decided that the next day before the housekeeper arrived, Danny would hide in her wardrobe with a camera. Sandra would leave the room for class as usual, but double back to arrive at the room behind the woman.

The plan worked perfectly. Sandra arrived at their room just as Danny jumped from the wardrobe and snapped a picture.

"Gotcha!" she yelled in triumph.

Sandra grinned at her friend's dramatic outburst and then frowned as she took in the sight of the housemaid guiltily clutching an amber pendant she had just taken out of Sandra's bedside drawer.

"I believe that's mine," Sandra said in clipped tones. Not saying a word, the maid gently placed the pendant on the bed stand.

"What are you going to do?" the maid asked quietly, as if resigned to her fate.

"It's done," Sandra said. "I've called the campus security and the Dean. They should be here in a few minutes."

"And I've got photographic proof that you've been stealing," Danny said. The maid sat on the edge of the bed, put her face in her hands, and began to weep.

It was all over quickly. The maid was questioned, the stolen items found where she had hidden them in her locker. The campus security team turned the maid over to local police, and the girls were praised for their clever detecting.

"So, you're more than just a pretty face," Danny teased Sandra later, as they sat alone reliving the day.

"That's me," Sandra said facetiously. "Beauty and brains."

Danny looked thoughtfully at her laughing friend.

"It's true," she said softly.

Chapter Four

The train trip was thrilling for Sandra. She sat in the window seat, her eyes glued on the passing scenery. She didn't want to miss a thing. Danny rattled on about local landmarks and plans for the weekend, but Sandra's mind was a million miles away.

Danny's home was situated in a quiet suburb of a major metropolitan city. Sandra saw awesome skyscrapers, endless apartment complexes, and brief flashes of green that must be parks, but everywhere else, concrete and steel. She began a little fantasy in her head.

She would disembark from the train, her skin radiant, her hair billowing in the soft breeze. Michael would be waiting to meet them. His handsome face (what color were his eyes?) would reveal his instant attraction to this big beautiful woman. He would smile and stretch out his hand to clasp hers, a surge of electrical attraction sparking between them. He would step closer, his face lowering toward hers to bestow a kiss of unbelievable sweetness on her full, moist lips...

"Sandra!" Sandra snapped out of her reverie and turned to Danny.

"Where were you just now? I called your name half a dozen times and you didn't hear me," Danny said, giving Sandra a peculiar look.

"I was just daydreaming I guess," Sandra said, blushing. "Sorry."

"Some daydream," Danny said. "We're almost at the station. We'll grab a cab and be home in no time."

"A cab?" Sandra was still slightly dazed. "Isn't Michael coming for us?"

"What?" Danny chuckled. "Earth to Sandra! Michael will be out on the town probably. He's a single, gorgeous male. Don't tell him I said that! He's probably got a date."

"Oh," Sandra said, her bubble deflating. So much for daydreams.

The girls arrived at the Santorelli household to find themselves in the midst of a family crisis. Loud female voices shouted back and forth from an upstairs room of the comfortable brick house. Danny's father paced the floor yelling in Italian to some poor soul on the other end of the phone, while Mrs. Santorelli slammed pots and pans on the stove obviously furious about something. Two younger men sat at the kitchen table reading the newspaper and drinking coffee as if pandemonium was not erupting around them. Sandra's eyes were huge at the noise and chaos. Danny merely grabbed an apple out of the bowl on the table, took a large bite, straddled a kitchen chair and sat down.

"Have a seat, Sandy," she said nonchalantly. "This could go on for hours." Sandra sat, still overwhelmed at her first impressions of Danny's family.

Danny's father was a swarthy man of medium height. His posture was ramrod straight, somewhat disguising the middle-age paunch he sported. What hair he had left was liberally streaked with grey. His scowl made him look quite foreboding, Sandy thought. Mrs. Santorelli was short and quite full-figured. Her long, black hair was swept up into an elaborate chignon. It was apparent that Mrs. Santorelli frequented a hairdresser and took pride in her appearance.

The two young men were a study in opposites. One was tall, slender, and blonde, his pale complexion riddled with freckles. Quite good-looking, Sandra thought, in a boyish way. But the other was downright handsome. Tall and dark, in the classic sense, he lounged in his chair, comfortable both in his own skin and in his environment. An air of quiet amusement seemed to surround him. Sandra recognised him immediately and her heart skipped a few beats. This was Michael.

"Sandy," Danny said, nodding to the blonde-haired young man sitting at one end of the table. "This is Ben, my future brother-in-law. Ben, this is my room-mate and best friend, Sandra."

"Hi," he said, not lifting his eyes from the paper.

"Hi," Sandra responded, not sure what was expected of her.

"And this mug," Danny indicated the other young man, "is my big brother. Mikey!! Get your nose out of the paper and say hi to Sandra."

With deliberate gestures, Michael folded the paper and then fixed Sandra with a warm smile.

"Welcome to the loony bin," he said quietly, his eyes crinkled in amusement. Sandra's breath caught in her throat as she took in his dark, curly, slightly longish hair and warm, dark brown eyes. She was enchanted by the even white teeth that made his smile so bright and she couldn't help but notice the deep dimple that appeared in his left cheek when he grinned. He's an Adonis, she mused, taking in his broad shoulders and strong, capable hands.

"Yeah," said Danny, "and he's the head lunatic."

"He doesn't look crazy to me," Sandra said and was immediately embarrassed at her own boldness.

"Thanks, Sandra," said Michael, gracing her with another dazzling smile. "I like your friend already, sis."

"So what's the crisis about this time," Danny asked.

"I'm not completely sure. Pop and I kind of walked into this after work. Ben should be able to tell us."

Ben looked up from his paper, the strain showing around his mouth and eyes.

"The caterer we hired for the wedding has suddenly gone out of business," he said dourly. "Sophie just about had a hemorhage. She's certain now that the wedding is ruined and that it's the end of the world. I tried to tell her that we could find another caterer, but she won't listen to me. She just got hysterical and Carla, and Sophia's friend Gina are upstairs trying to calm her down."

"That figures," Danny said, as if her sister's hysterics were a natural occurrence. "Who's Pop tearing to shreds?"

"Well, first he called his lawyer," Michael said in reply. "Then he called the caterer threatening to sue. Then he called Uncle Lorenzo just to yell, I think. He should be finished any time now. And providing Mom is finished breaking the cookware..." this he said slightly louder in his mother's direction,"...we should have a nice quiet dinner sometime soon."

"You be careful, fanciullo," said Loretta Santorelli, humor evident under her scowl, "or you'll be cooking this dinner yourself."

"You wouldn't do that to the rest of the family, would you Mama?" he said with a teasing grin.

"Does this kind of thing happen often?" Sandra asked, full of wonder at the humor amidst the chaos.

"Only about every five minutes," Danny said sardonically, "but always when one of the sibs is planning a wedding. I don't think I'll ever get married. People seem to lose their minds when they're planning the stupid thing."

"I'll sure be glad when it's all over," Ben said. "I don't think I can handle too much more of this stress."

"Hey it's only just begun, man," Michael said. "Wait until you're married!" The pained look on Ben's face caused them all to laugh.

Abruptly, Mr. Santorelli slammed the phone back into its cradle.

"Al nome d'Iddio!! You won't believe this," Mr. Santorelli said, a scowl continuing to mar his rugged handsomeness. "Lorenzo says the caterer was bought out by a syndicate, the same one that's been sniffing around the store."

"What syndicate, Dad?" Danny asked.

"Not to worry, sis," Michael said firmly. "Some business group is trying to buy up the whole area, store by store. Rumour has it that they want to raze it and put up high-rises. There's some question as to the 'legality' of it all. I'm inclined to believe it, considering some of their tactics."

"Now, don't fuss, Michael," Mrs. Santorelli said. "You don't know--"

"Loretta, you weren't there," her husband barked. "Those thugs meant business. We were threatened, no mistake."

"Threatened!" Danny's voice rang with alarm.

"Gangsters! Cacapensieri! What a bunch of thieves," her father yelled to no one in particular, not aware of how upset his daughter was getting.

"Carlo," said his wife, "watch your language and your blood pressure! Remember what the doctor said."

"Mom. Pops," Danny said, in an attempt to divert attention and change the subject. "I'd like you to meet Sandra Reese, my roommate and best friend."

"Sandra," Mrs. Santorelli threw her hands in the air and grimaced. "Nostro Signore! You must think you've walked into an asylum! Welcome to our home, dear." She walked over and kissed Sandra on the cheek. "Carlo, darling, look. It's Sandra, Danny's friend from school."

"I heard, I heard," he replied. "Welcome Sandra. Sorry for my outburst there. I'm not such an old bear, really." He too gave her a kiss on the cheek. Not coming from a demonstrative family, Sandra was rather embarrassed and didn't know how to react.

"Mom! Pop! You're gonna scare her," Danny scolded.

"You watch your mouth, figlia mia," her mother said, wagging a finger in Danny's direction.

"Sandra wouldn't be scared of us," Danny's father said, "would you, Sandra?"

"I don't think so," Sandra said softly, beginning to like this warm, vivacious clan.

"Good," Mr. Santorelli said, "Now, you girls help Mama get the table set and dinner ready. The boys and I are gonna go see Mrs. Pirelli. Lorenzo says she used to cater weddings in the old days. Maybe we can sort out this caterer nonsense before Sophie takes it into her head to cancel the wedding. We won't be long."

And with the men's departure and a slam of the door, a sense of quiet descended on the house. The ranting from upstairs seemed to have ceased and a murmur of voices could be heard.

"Well," Loretta Santorelli said, wiping her hands on her apron. "You girls set the table and I'll put the pot of water on for the pasta."

"Mama!" came a shout from upstairs.

"What now?" Danny's mom said, dropping the large pot on the counter. "Honestly! That girl is wound up tighter than Mrs. Rossini's rigatoni. I'd better go and get her settled down before your father comes home."

"Well, what do you think?" Danny asked, grinning at her friend.

"Whew! I'm worn out!" Sandra said, an answering grin on her face.

"Yeah, well, you'd better get used to it," Danny said, chuckling. "It's like this most of the time."

"How do you cope with it?" Sandra asked, her eyes wide in amazement.

"You learn to ignore it," Danny said. "It's that or go absolutely squirrelly!"

Laughing together, Danny and Sandra set the table, and went about getting the dinner ready. Soon, a sumptuous tomato sauce was simmering on the stove, the water boiling for the pasta. Garlic bread sat wrapped for the oven. A huge, leafy green salad sat on the counter. Laughing male voices announced the return of the three men.

"Mmmmm! Something smells great!" Michael said, sniffing the air appreciatively.

"You're mother's a great cook," Mr. Santorelli said.

"I'll have you know," Danny said, her hands on her hips, "that Sandy and I made dinner."

"Hmmm!" Michael said looking at his father, a twinkle in his eye. "Is it too late to get reservations for a restaurant?"

"Hey you!" Danny yelled, throwing the dishtowel at her laughing brother. He picked it up and grabbing a corner, wound it up, ready to 'crack-the-whip' at his kid sister.

"Don't you dare!" she yelled, grabbing her own towel, prepared to do battle. Within seconds, a rousing battle of towel snapping began, Michael and Danny chasing each other around the large harvest table, Sandra, Ben and Mr. Santorelli, helpless with laughter.

Mrs. Santorelli and three younger women appeared at the kitchen door, curiosity bringing them to the kitchen.

"What on earth is going on here?" Mrs. Santorelli demanded.

"Call him off, Mom," Danny panted, flicking her towel towards Michael.

"Michael," his mother said sternly. "Stop picking on your sister."

"Picking on her!" Michael said, ducking as Danny moved in for the kill. "She started it."

"What are you? Six years old?" Mrs. Santorelli said, a grin beginning to twitch at the corners of her mouth. "Is anyone worried about getting fed tonight?"

"Don't worry, Mama," Mr. Santorelli said. "Danielle and Sandra got dinner ready. It smells delicious."

"They did?" his wife said, skeptically. Then checking the various pots on the stove, she smiled and turned to Sandra.

"Thank you dear. That was nice of you."

"I was glad to help," Sandra said quietly.

The towel fight wound to a halt and Danny collapsed in laughter on the floor.

"It's a good job you stopped, kiddo," Michael said breathlessly, "If you hadn't, I would have creamed you."

"In your dreams!" Danny giggled.

Michael moved over to the stove and lifted the lid on the saucepot. Taking a deep whiff, he moaned.

"This smells great," he said. "It must be your influence." This was directed to Sandra who blushed with pleasure at his attention. Her heart seemed to do funny things with his proximity.

"I like to cook," she said softly.

"A woman with talent," he said smiling.

Sandra glowed. He had called her a woman. An attractive man had smiled at her and called her a woman! This visit was promising to be the best of Sandra's life.

The rest of the weekend passed in a whirl of wedding preparations, shopping forays to the various thrift shops Danny frequented, and even a shift at the family store, Santorelli Meats.

The store was located in the center of the business district of their well-established neighborhood. It was flanked on one side by Reiger's Bakery and on the other side by the One Stop Market. Situated on the edge of Little Italy, it was a quiet, safe area of solid brick homes well cared for, neatly landscaped, clean streets bordered by ancient sheltering trees, and family owned businesses passed from father to son. It was a small town within the big city. A place where everyone knew everyone else. You could still get credit at the local market and the doctor still made house calls.

Sandra immediately fell in love with the sense of solid security she felt in the neighborhood. Her parent's home was an aluminum sided, boxy two-storey, on a street of similar boxy two-storeys, cold and sterile by comparison. Walking to the store with Danny, hearing the rustle of the breeze in the old trees, smelling that 'only-in-the-fall' smell of burning leaves, Sandra was filled with a sensation of utter contentment. It was Saturday afternoon, a sunny, crisp day. Danny chattered a mile a minute, introducing Sandra to local landmarks and notable personalities.

"...and that's the park where I got my first kiss," she said. "I was six years old and forced Tommy Baker to do the deed."

"Forced him?" Sandra grinned. Nothing Danny told her surprised her anymore.

"Yeah," Danny said with an answering grin. "I threatened to tell the class that he wet his bed."

"Ah, the poor kid," Sandra said, laughing at her friend's audacity. "So, how was it?"

"Awful," Danny said. "He kissed me so hard, I cut my lip on my tooth. I was so mad, I hit him. Story of my life!"

The two girls were laughing uproariously when they entered the store, only to be brought up short by the presence of three very large, very well-dressed men in the store, Carlo Santorelli's red-faced anger and Michael's wary concern.

"I told you," Carlo said angrily. "I don't need no extra insurance. Especially from bravi like you. I got a good business here, loyal customers. I tell you, you guys might as well give up trying to buy up the neighborhood. Nobody wants to see high-rises here. We're happy just the way we are."

"I see that you are determined in your stubbornness, Mr. Santorelli," one of the men said in an oily, quiet voice. He had the look of an educated sophisticate, but the air around him crackled with menace. "I've been more than reasonably patient. So be it. You accept the consequences." There was implied threat in his words. The two girls moved closer to each other.

"You leave now," Danny's father said emphatically. Without further words, the three men turned and left the store, the spokesman pausing briefly to smile a reptilian smile at the girls as he passed.

"Dad, who were those men?" Danny said, her voice tinged with fear.

"Don't worry, cara," he said not very convincingly. "It's business. You wouldn't understand. I think I'll go out back and finish wrapping Mrs. Jarvis's order. Sciocca!" He left, his body betraying barely controlled rage. The girls looked to Michael.

"What's going on, Mikey?" Danny asked.

"Dad's really worried, sis," Michael replied, his eyes still focused on his father's retreat. "That's not the first time those guys have been here. It started last spring when I was in my last semester. They've been visiting every two weeks or so ever since. Dad just gets madder and madder each time. Little things happen. Graffiti on our windows. Garbage spilled all over our sidewalk. Hang up calls at home. Nothing that you could call more than a nuisance. But I know it's these guys. Damn hoods!"

"They scare me, Michael," Danny said.

"Relax, sis," Michael smiled tightly. "All smoke and mirrors. It'll be all right. Now, we better stop talking and sell some meat. I see Mrs. Santini coming across the street and you know how fussy she can be."

The girls soon forgot the nasty episode as customers came one after the other. Sandra delighted in watching the siblings deal with taking the orders and chatting with the clientele. It was obvious that they had known these people all their lives. It was friendly and highly entertaining.

Michael was obviously a great favorite with all the ladies. He smiled, flattered, and had elderly women giggling like schoolgirls. Every so often he would flash Sandra a smile and a conspiratorial wink, causing her to blush and her heart to turn over strangely. He was such a good-looking guy. Sandra had to force herself not to stare at him openly. God, what was happening to her?

For Sandra, Sunday night came far too quickly and tears threatened as she said her good-byes to the Santorelli's.

"Good-bye dear," Mrs. Santorelli said, reaching up to give the taller girl a hug. "You're welcome to visit any time."

"Thank-you, Mrs. Santorelli. I've had a wonderful weekend."

"Well, don't wait too long until you come back," Mr. Santorelli said, also hugging an emotional Sandra. "We're very glad you're Danny's friend."

"See ya, kid," Michael shook her hand and placed a quick peck on her cheek, causing Sandra's heart to race and her face to fill with color. Momentarily at a loss for words, she muttered her good-byes and fled the house while Danny made her farewells.

Sandra was quiet on the train ride back to school. Danny chattered away about her crazy family and her other sister's wedding disasters. She didn't seem to notice that her friend really wasn't listening.

Sandra's mind was drifting, and foremost in her thoughts was a pair of twinkling dark eyes and a charming grin. It rattled her that Danny's brother was having such an effect on her and she had to remind herself that she was crazy about Randy, waiting back on campus for her return. She closed her eyes trying to shut out the disturbing thoughts sitting at the back of her mind. Soon, the motion of the train through the dark night lulled her into a troubled sleep.

Chapter Five

The day of the dance arrived bringing blackened skies and thunderstorms. Gloom hung in the air and seemed to be an omen to Sandra. Danny kidded her friend about her premonitions of doom and tried to get her into the spirit of the coming evening.

"Come on, girlfriend," she cajoled. "This is the night you've been waiting for. You've got a date with your dream guy. It's gonna be great!"

"I wish I could be as sure as you," Sandra said. She couldn't tell her friend that her dreams had been filled all week with visions of Danny's brother instead of Randy. She was unsettled by her attraction to the older man. He was so out of her range of experience. Common sense told her that he had just been nice to his kid sister's school friend. It was nothing more than that. She would be a fool to read anything else into his attentions. Having sorted that out in her own mind at last, she was able to close that book and concentrate on her preparations for her date with Randy.

Much thought and discussion went into what she would wear for this occasion.

"I want to make a statement," said Sandra. "I want to leave a lasting impression."

"What are you aiming for?" asked Danny. "Glamour? Fun-loving? Cute? What?"

Sandra wrinkled her brow in thought. "Cute is out. I'm hardly the cute type. Glamour? I don't think so. He knows I'm fun-loving. I think I want to show him a different side of me. I want something dramatic and bold."

"You could do it too," said Danny with enthusiasm, "with your height and bearing. How about..."

They started sorting through Sandra's much expanded wardrobe. A large portion of any spending money Sandra got went into clothes and accessories now. Her mother and father would never recognize her. At least, she hoped they wouldn't.

After two hours of trying on and rejecting one thing and another, the two girls finally settled on what they thought would be the perfect outfit for the dance. Sandra studied herself in the full-length mirror. She had started with a plain sleeveless t-shirt dress that fell to just above her ankles. Paired with a pair of black leather lace-up granny boots, it had an elegant flair. Over this she wore a jewel toned cocoon jacket, vivid and dramatic, that draped across her hips, at once making her look taller and more majestic. The girls decided on sweeping her thick hair up into a tumble of curls on top of her head. A few tendrils lay wispily on her neck giving her a romantic look. Next Danny insisted on some extreme makeup, something Sandra never did. Deep midnight blue liner smudged around her eyes made them seem larger and more soulful. Carefully blended shadow in mauves and purples added to the mystique. Her lashes grew with the dark mascara and her lips looked full and moist with the fuchsia lipstick. Large silver earring hoops and a midriff length silver pendant completed the ensemble. Sandra could hardly believe her eyes as she surveyed her appearance.

"You look fantastic, girlfriend!" Danny said with genuine enthusiasm.

"Do you really think so?" Sandra was radiant in her new-found beauty.

"You'll knock him dead!" Danny said. Danny was unusually demure in a long short-sleeved peasant style dress. The effect was kept from being too cutesy by her combat boots and spiked hair and the ever-present nose ring.

"I think we both look great," Sandra said. "I wish Mom and Dad could see me. They'd never believe it."

"Well," Danny said. "It just so happens that I borrowed my sister's camera just for this occasion. Look over here and smile, kiddo. You're on Candid Camera." With that she began snapping pictures of Sandra, who got into the spirit of things by posing like a super-model. Soon they were laughing uproariously at their own antics.

By eight o'clock, both girls were in a state of high anxiety. Danny's date, Chris, had a late class and would be meeting her at the dance around nine. It was agreed that Danny would wait with Sandra to offer moral support on this important evening, and walk over to the dance with Sandra and Randy.

At eight fifteen, Sandra started to worry, but Danny kept reassuring her that it was still reasonable, that he had just gotten held up and besides, guys were never as exact with time as girls. At eight thirty, Sandra called his room but there was no answer. She recalled her earlier premonitions of doom and felt her heart drop.

"Don't worry," Danny said, not really believing her own words. "I'm sure he has a good reason for being late. "

"I hope you're right," Sandra said, pacing the room. "I hope he hasn't stood me up. I couldn't take that."

"Don't even think such a thing," Danny said vehemently. "He's just gotten held up or distracted. He'll arrive or call any time now."

But nine o'clock arrived and no Randy. The girls then knew that he wasn't going to show. Danny was furious but tried not to show it for fear of upsetting Sandra more than she already was.

"Maybe he had an accident or something," she said hopefully. "Do you want me to call the hospitals and stuff?"

Sandra looked at her friend, resignation in her eyes.

"We both know he wasn't in any accident," Sandra said heavily. "He stood me up. He couldn't deal with being seen on a date with a fat girl and he backed out. I just wish he'd had the decency to tell me." Bitterness edged her words. Tears welled in her eyes and threatened to overflow.

"He's a jerk, Sandra," Danny said loyally. "If he can't see what a beautiful and wonderful girl you are, then he's a stupid fool and you don't need him in your life!"

"But don't you see?" Sandra said, her voice quavering dangerously. "I do need him. I really liked him and I thought he liked me too. I thought he might fall in love with me. I really thought..."

"You can do better than that creep!" Danny said, putting her arm around her friend and offering what comfort she could.

"Look, I hate to leave you like this," she said regretfully, "but I've got to meet Chris right now. Are you going to be okay alone?"

"You go," Sandra said, wiping her mascara streaked cheeks. "No use both of us being miserable. I'd rather be alone anyway."

As the door closed behind Danny, Sandra collapsed on her bed, sobs racking her body and tearing at her throat. All of her sorrow and self-pity flowed from her eyes. Her years of feeling awkward and inferior welled up within her and threatened to drown her with their very intensity. She sobbed for the lost opportunities and the undeserved rejection. She sobbed for the frustration of not fitting in and the anger at the hurt so carelessly caused by others. At last, she was sobbed out and her breathing quieted, leaving her exhausted and drained. She seemed to lay there for ages, just going over her conversation with Randy in her mind. Had she misread him? Had he misunderstood her invitation? Did she jump to wrong conclusions? But she kept coming back to the fact that he had stood her up.

With a heavy sigh, Sandra stood and ambled into the bathroom to wash the now ruined makeup from her face. Her eyes were red and puffy and she was pale. How could she have ever thought that a guy would find her pretty? She had been deluding herself! She was brought out of her reverie by a sharp knock on the door. Puzzled she put her ear to the door and asked, "Who is it?"

"It's Michael," came the surprising reply and Sandra opened the door to find Danny's brother on the threshold.

"Hi," he said casually. "Can I come in?"

"Sure," Sandra said, shaking her head as if clearing the fog away. "Danny's not here. She's at a dance."

"I know," Michael said, settling himself onto the end of Danny's bed. Sandra noticed that he was dressed in well-cut black pleated dress pants with a forest green silk dress shirt. He looked divinely elegant.

"You know?" Sandra was really puzzled now.

"Yep," he said, smiling. "She called me about an hour ago and said that your date was unavailable and could I please come and help you out by escorting you to the dance?"

"She what??" Sandra was mortified. Her face filled with color and her eyes were wide with horror. "Oh, no! I'm so sorry. I never meant for her--"

Michael lifted a hand to still her torrent of words. "Hey, it's not a problem. I'm always happy to help a friend. And we are friends, aren't we?"

Sandra nodded, still blushing at the impossible situation.

"I can't believe she did this!" she said.

"Oh, Danny's capable of just about anything," Michael said smiling. "She really cares about you and hated to see you miss the dance just because your date was a dud. Frankly, the guy's a fool. You look...bellissima." His eyes swept over her with obvious genuine approval.

"What does that mean?" Sandra asked nervously.

"Very beautiful," Michael replied with a smile.

Despite her embarrassment, Sandra smiled at the compliment.

"Well, I did," she said, lifting a hand to her tousled hair. "I'm afraid I managed to cry off all my makeup though."

"That's okay," Michael said. "You really don't need much makeup anyway. You have very pretty eyes just as they are. I'll give you five minutes to dabble on some cheek stuff and lipstick and then we'll be off and dazzle all the common folk at the ball. Okay princess?"

Sandra was speechless, but somehow she managed to nod her consent and run to the bathroom. Cold water took away some of the puffiness around her eyes. Mascara made them seem large again. A touch of blush and a dash of lipstick and she felt ready to face the world again.

"You really do look lovely, you know," Michael remarked again, as Sandra emerged from the bathroom. She read smoldering intensity in his gaze for a moment.

"Thank you," Sandra said shyly. "I really wanted to make an impression tonight."

"Don't worry," Michael said, a slow sensual smile appearing on his face. "You will."

The dance was in full swing when they arrived and Sandra was overwhelmed by the noise and the crowds. It took her and Michael a few minutes to find Danny and her date, Chris, in the throng, but at last they were seated at their table.

"Thanks big brother," Danny said, throwing her arms around Michael and giving him a bear hug.

"I hope you don't mind," she then said to Sandra, looking for the answer in her friend's eyes.

"I'll kill you later," Sandra said with a grin and Danny knew it was all right.

Introductions were made all around and the two couples hit the dance floor to an up-tempo top ten hit that was currently rising on the charts. Sandra couldn't remember ever feeling this exhilarated. Michael was an energetic dancer who believed in contact with his partner. He was constantly grabbing her hand to send her in spins or turns around the floor. She was giddy with the excitement. Thoughts of Randy receded in her mind to be replaced by gratitude for being alive.

Inevitably a slow song came along, and Sandra wondered if Michael would insist on sitting down, but instead he pulled her into his arms and they glided to the soft tones of the romantic ballad. Sandra was very conscious of Michael's arm across the middle of her back and of his firm grip on her hand. She could feel his muscular shoulder through the sensual fabric of his shirt, and this close she could see the fine stubble of beard on his chin.

She was almost as tall as Michael and was at a perfect height that if she wanted, she could have laid her head on his shoulder and snuggled in close. A curious sensation coursed through her body at the thought of this intimate gesture and she felt herself blushing in the darkness of the dance floor.

As the song neared the end, Michael pulled back to look intently into Sandra's eyes. She didn't fully understand what was being said with that look, but she found herself looking back with equal intensity. Time halted for a moment and it seemed as if the sound of the party around her receded into the distance. Her breath caught in her throat and she felt herself leaning slowly forward as if pulled by some magnetic force. His face was coming closer, his eyes now focused on her lips as if they were his ultimate goal. Sandra was sure he was about to kiss her and she welcomed it. Her eyes began to close, her body leaning heavily against his own, when a voice broke into the moment, breaking the spell. She jumped back in shock.

"Sandra? I didn't know you were coming to the dance!"

Sandra turned. "Hi Vicky. I guess I haven't talked to you for a couple of weeks." Then Sandra stopped speaking, her eyes drawn to the guy standing beside her pretty little cousin. Bitterness filled her mouth. Her eyes widened in disbelief. Standing with his arm around Victoria, was Randy.

"Randy?" was all she could think to say.

"Hi Sandy," he replied as if nothing were amiss.

"You two know each other?" said Vicky with an innocent air.

Sandra's brain exploded with rage. Not caring who heard or where she was, she lashed out at her cousin with unleashed fury.

"You know very well that we know each other. You probably knew too that I asked Randy to this dance. But you couldn't leave him alone could you? You just had to ruin my night by worming your way into his life. You've always had a way of ruining things for me. I don't know why. Maybe it makes you feel superior. Well, I'm sick of it. Do you hear me? I'm sick of it and I'm sick of you. I hate you for this Vicky, I really do!!"

"What are you--" Vicky began.

"Oh, stop pretending," Sandra shouted, completely out of control by now. "And as for you..." she said, rounding on Randy. "...I really liked you and I honestly thought you liked me. What a fool I was. The least you could have done was have the decency to tell me you didn't want to go out with me instead of letting me get my hopes up and then dashing them to the ground. Or is that how you two get your kicks? Will you have a nice little chuckle about how you duped the fat girl? Well, you can just go to hell, the both of you!"

With that, Sandra ran blindly out of the auditorium. Tears streamed down her face to mix with the torrential rain that had begun to fall. Humiliation filled her soul. With it came the realization that she had just managed to make a complete and total spectacle of herself in front of hundreds of people. They'd certainly remember her now!

It seemed to take her forever to reach the sanctuary of her room. By then she was completely drenched and shivering with cold and rage. Furious with herself for her loss of control and for Vicky and Randy's betrayal, she tore the combs from her hair and roughly wiped her face clean. She couldn't remove the dress and jacket fast enough, but felt more herself in her tights and big shirt. The granny boots were flung in a corner and the soggy dress left in a heap on the floor. She couldn't bear to look at either symbol of her ruined night.

One thought filled her mind. She had to get out of there. She had to escape. She couldn't stay at school and face the pitying looks from strangers or the knowing smirks at the deluded fat girl. Most of all she couldn't face Vicky and Randy. How they had hurt her! It was unpardonable. Then she realized she had run out on Michael. In the confusion of her discovery, she had completely forgotten the preceding few moments. He had been about to kiss her, she was sure. But now she was confused. She wasn't sure she understood anyone's motives anymore. And Michael was probably disgusted with her emotional display anyway. Likely, he was already on his way home, thankful that he didn't have to deal with her and her instability. God, what a mess she had made of things!

With efficiency and speed, Sandra packed a small bag. She needed some breathing space and the only place for that was at home. If she hurried she could catch the last bus. Her mother would freak at her sudden midnight appearance but she didn't care. She would worry about that later. She quickly scribbled a note to Danny. No use making her worry.

Went home for a couple of days. Feel like an idiot. Tell Michael I'm sorry he had to witness that. I'll call you. Love Sandy.

Chapter Six

It was about two a.m. when the cab pulled in front of Sandra's house. The neighborhood was dark in its slumber and Sandra reveled in the peace and quiet. Using her key, she let herself into the house mindful of not waking her parents. Leaving her case at the foot of the stairs, she tiptoed to the kitchen, suddenly aware that she was ravenously hungry. A raid on the fridge yielded crusty rolls and smoked ham, Swiss cheese and crisp lettuce. A dab of mayo and she had a thick tasty sandwich. One led to two, washed down with tumblers of frosty cold milk.

She was reminded of childhood kitchen raids. Whenever upset or sad, she would sneak down in the middle of the night and eat until the hurt went away. She supposed that was how she had managed to get so big. But she couldn't help herself. Food was a constant and true friend. It never betrayed her. It never changed its character or took sides against her. She could rely on it to always bring solace to her hurting soul.

Sated, she made her way to the family room, where she turned on the TV with the sound muted. The flickering light of the TV screen in the dark was hypnotically soothing and she curled up on the sofa and fell into a deep, dreamless sleep. It was here that her father found her the next morning.

"Sandra? Sandra, are you all right?" Mr. Reese gently shook his daughter's shoulder trying to rouse her.

"Hmmm?" Sandra sluggishly emerged from her slumber. "Morning Daddy."

"When did you get in? Why didn't you tell us you were coming?" Sandra's father said with concern.

"I just decided at the last minute," Sandra said by way of explanation. She yawned and stretched, working the kinks out of her neck and back. "I felt like coming home so I grabbed the bus and here I am. How are you?"

"Your mother and I are just dandy," he replied with habitual cheer. "Your mother will be so pleased to have you home. We hardly see you anymore."

Sandra felt a little guilty. She really had neglected her parents in the heady joy of her independence.

"I'm sorry, Dad," she said. "I've been really busy at school. You wouldn't believe the workload! But I...uh...needed a break and thought I'd come home for a couple of days. Is that all right?"

"Of course it is!" he said. "I'll go put the coffee on while you go upstairs and freshen up. Your mother was just waking up when I came down. We'll have a big breakfast to celebrate having you home."

Feeling somewhat like the prodigal child, Sandra went upstairs to her childhood bedroom. The pink ruffled bedspread and dainty lace curtains suddenly seemed so juvenile to her. Had she really changed so much in a few short weeks? She picked up the stuffed bunny that had always been her sleeping companion and rubbed it lovingly against her face. Comfort seemed to flow over her in the familiar and non-threatening surroundings.

She could hear the murmur of her parent's voices downstairs, no doubt speculating on her sudden and unorthodox appearance at home. Sandra would have some explaining to do, that's for sure. She'd plead overwork or perhaps homesickness. She balked at the idea of explaining her real reason for fleeing. For one thing, in retrospect she was extremely embarrassed at her inept and infantile handling of the situation. Secondly, her parents were not emotionally driven people. They wouldn't understand her passionate anger or her sense of humiliation. They would no doubt counsel talking to Vicky and rethinking her connection to Randy. They might suggest that she had over romanticized this boy and misinterpreted his interest.

And what Sandra feared the most was that they would tell her that of course most boys wouldn't be attracted to a girl with her particular looks so it was unreasonable for her to even think that.

Quickly, Sandra showered and changed into a long cotton skirt and t-shirt in tones of burgundy and gold. She slipped sandals on her feet and plaited her wet hair into two thick braids. A look in the mirror confirmed what she already knew. She had come a long way from the dowdy little kid who had left home a few weeks before. She realized she was beginning to find her own sense of style, helped initially by Danny's persistent guidance. She was comfortable with this artsy, bohemian look she now sported. It seemed to suit her personality and gave her a measure of confidence that she'd never had before. Not that it had helped last night. But she realized that a few weeks ago, she would have been completely destroyed. Now she recognized that what she felt the most was anger and betrayal. She smirked ironically at her reflection. It's true what those commercials say. 'You've come a long way baby!'

Sandra could smell the bacon and coffee as she slowly descended the stairs. Snippets of her parents' conversation drifted up to her.

"...sure she's okay. What did she say?" Her mother.

"Not much. She seems fine. I think she's just homesick." Good old dad.

"I wish she'd called. We could have picked her up." Oh mom.

"Now dear, she's a big girl now. We can't be babying her anymore." Thanks Dad.

"Morning!" Sandra said brightly as she entered the kitchen.

"Good morning dear," Mrs. Reese said, planting a perfunctory kiss on her daughter's cheek. "What a nice surprise." Which was her mother's subtle way of asking what was going on. Sandra was also conscious of her mother's appraisal of her appearance. Here we go, she thought.

"Well," Sandra said, taking a deep breath and trying to achieve just the right note of sincerity. "I was a little homesick. We've been worked so hard at school, I haven't had time to get home. And seeing Danny with her family last weekend made me want to see you two." Big smile. Don't let down your guard.

"You aren't going to miss any classes are you?" her mother asked, disapproval at the notion tingeing her words.

"None that I can't make up," Sandra replied with unusual bravado.

"Hmmm." Sandra read her mother's disapproval on her face. "Is that a new outfit?"

"Yes," Sandra said, steeling herself for a confrontation. "Do you like it?"

"It's very...unusual," Mrs. Reese said, taking a sip of her coffee.

"I like it!" Sandra said adamantly. "I know it's very different from what I've always worn. But I feel so comfortable in this look. It's taken me a long time to figure out my style and I feel that this is it."

"Is that what your roommate wears?" The implication was obvious. Sandra must be copying someone else.

"Not at all," Sandra said, trying to appear casual and unaffected by her mother's assumption that she had no personal style sense. Then a wave of mischief washed over her. "Danny's more the leather and combat boots type. You know, spiked hair and tattoos, nose ring and black lipstick."

"That sounds dreadful!" her mother said, repulsed at the mental picture Sandra had created. "What kind of creature do you live with? Is she on drugs? Should I call the school?"

"Mom," Sandra felt a wicked sense of satisfaction at having pierced her mother's cool composure. She also felt a little guilty at having painted such a dark picture of her best friend. "Just because Danny wears combat boots and spikes her hair, doesn't mean she's on drugs. She's a really good student and very serious about being a lawyer. She's also got a real close, nice family. She just likes to dress uniquely, to make a statement."

"You young people today," her mother said. "You all have to make 'statements'. Don't first impressions count for anything anymore?"

"Sure they do, Mom," Sandra said. "It just depends what first impression you want to make."

"And what impression is it you want to make, Sandra?"

Sandra thought for a moment. She hadn't really considered this in any concrete way.

"I guess I just want people to like me." There was an uncomfortable silence for a moment.

"Everyone likes you, princess," her father said. "You're a very sweet girl." Bless you Daddy.

"Thanks Dad," Sandra said, smiling. "Spread the word, okay?" She and her dad chuckled. Her mother remained strangely quiet.

"So Dad, how's business these days?." Good girl. Change the subject. Sandra's father filled her in on the construction business while they ate a hearty breakfast. Then she managed to get her mother to fill her in on her fourth graders of this year. It was while she was helping her mother take down the dining room curtains for laundering that the phone rang and brought the truth crashing in on Sandra.

Sandra's mother answered the phone.

"Hello? ...Oh, yes. How are you? ...Yes, she's here. Didn't she tell you she was coming home? ...I see ...I see ...Yes, of course ...Would you care to speak to her? ...I'll see." Covering the mouthpiece, she shot a questioning glance in Sandra's direction and asked, "Would you like to speak to Danielle. She's quite worried about you it seems."

"Yes, thank you mom," Sandra said with chagrin. It seemed as if the jig was up. Her mother had that 'I'll-talk-to-you-later' look on her face.

"Hi Danny," Sandra said quietly into the phone.

"What did you think you were up to, taking off like that?" Danny was obviously in a dither. "We've been worried sick!!"

"I left a note," Sandra said, feeling a little annoyed at Danny's attack.

"I know," Danny said calming down abruptly. "I've just been so worried after you disappeared. I didn't dare call you until now and so I've had all night to work myself into a lather. Look, sorry I bit your head off. But really, are you all right?"

"Yeah," Sandra said. "I just feel a little stupid right now. I really made a fool of myself. Michael must think I'm a real lunatic."

"Nothing of the sort," Danny said. "That jerk and that phony little cousin of yours deserved both barrels for what they did to you. They're lucky I didn't claw their eyes out. And don't worry about Michael. Remember, he's lived with me. So he's used to outrageous behavior!"

Sandra laughed. Danny had a way of making her feel all right.

"Will you explain to him please," Sandra said, "that I say thank you for what he did, filling in at the last moment like that and all. He didn't have to do it. I had a good time too."

"You can tell him yourself," Danny said.

"What?" Sandra felt a moment of apprehension.

"He should be there any minute now."

"What?" Sandra yelled.

"Well," Danny said, sounding a little sheepish. "I was worried, like I said. And so was he. When I told him we couldn't call your parents till this morning, he insisted on driving up there to see you and make sure you were all right. And he insisted that I stay here and go to classes like a good little girl. He can be so bossy sometimes! Anyway, I remembered you telling me where you lived and I gave him directions. He should arrive any time."

"But why on earth would he do that?" Sandra said, panic edging her voice. "He hardly knows me. Oh Danny, I've made such a mess of things. He probably thinks I'm a real flake. Oh, this is so embarrassing."

Just then, the doorbell rang and Sandra's sense of doom and gloom deepened further. There could be no doubt who was ringing the bell.

"Look, there's the door," Sandra said. "I'll call you back, okay? And Danny? I'm sorry."

"It's okay, kiddo," Danny said warmly. "Just hurry back."

Sandra's father was just opening the door as Sandra hung up the phone. She hurried to the door in time to hear Michael's explanation to her father.

"I'm a friend of Sandra's," he told her father. Friend? "My sister is her roommate. I happened to be in town and knew she was home for a few days and took the liberty of looking her up."

"Hi Michael," Sandra said. "How are you?"

"I'm fine, Sandy," he replied, concern in the look he sent her way. "How are you?"

"I'm good," Sandra worked to keep the tremor out of her voice. "It's good to see you. You've met my dad, Harold Reese. And this is my mother, Sylvia." Sandra's mother shot speculative looks at her daughter.

"Michael is Danny's brother, Mom," she said hoping to quell her mother's curiosity. This whole situation was becoming surreal. "He was in town and knew I was home so he decided to stop by."

"How nice," her mother said.

"Would you like to go for a walk or something?" Michael asked, his gaze conveying a need to speak with her privately.

"Sure," Sandra said. "We can drive down to the lake and walk along the boardwalk."

They were silent companions in the car on the short drive to the lakefront. It was early in the day yet and only a few brave sail-boarders populated the waterfront. A brisk breeze carried the smell of the water, slightly fishy but not unpleasant. The morning sun danced on the waves, hurting the eyes with its intense sparkle. Michael and Sandra began strolling along the boardwalk, each preoccupied with their thoughts. Michael cleared his throat.

"Danny was pretty worried about you last night when you took off so upset," he said.

"I know and I'm sorry," Sandra said quietly. And what did you think, she wondered. "I was talking to her when you arrived. She understands why I had to get out of there."

"Well, maybe you could explain it to me," Michael said, exasperation in his tone.

"Why do you care?" Sandra said, then immediately regretted her brusqueness. "I mean, you hardly know me. Why should it bother you?"

"It just does," Michael said, shrugging. "I don't like to see people hurt. You're a close friend of my sister's. I'd like to think that we're friends too. Where I come from, you worry about your friends when they're hurting."

"I'm not used to this kind of attention," Sandra said. "Danny's the first real girlfriend I've ever had. It's kind of overwhelming."

"I find that hard to believe."

"What? That I've never had a real friend? Or that I find it emotionally overwhelming?"

"I guess I find it hard to believe that you haven't had people worry about you before. I mean, your parents I'm sure worry all the time. And someone as sweet as you has to have had friends." Michael sounded so sure of himself, Sandra thought with irony.

"I suppose my parents do worry. That seems to be a parent's job," Sandra said, trying to strike a humorous tone. "And it's nice of you to say I'm sweet, but you've only known me a short time. I've really changed since meeting Danny. She has this way of waking you up and making you see the possibilities."

Michael chuckled at this description of his baby sister. "She is a human dynamo at that! But what do mean by you've changed?"

"Well," Sandra took a deep breath, "I've always been shy and awkward. I guess growing up chubby made me really self-conscious. People can be pretty mean and thoughtless to a big kid. I was always taller and heavier than any other kid in my class and I think more was expected of me because I seemed older and more mature. I was actually less mature and emotionally developed than my peers." She gazed at Michael and gave an embarrassed laugh. "Sorry--I didn't mean to go on like that. I'm sure you don't want to be bored by all of this."

"On the contrary," Michael said, brushing a wisp of hair from Sandra's forehead, "I'd like very much to hear all about it."

"Really?"

"Really," Michael said, nodding and smiling.

Sandra returned his smile and shrugged. She couldn't believe how comfortable she felt talking to him. "Well, I always felt as if I didn't quite measure up. I never seemed to please anyone, and believe me, I tried! I even felt that my parents were disappointed in me. I was their only child and somehow they didn't get the one they wanted. Don't get me wrong--they were very good parents--but my mom was always putting me on diets and taking me to doctors for tests. And Dad would make comments about what was on my plate or if I was having too many sweets. I felt guilty all the time, even if I hadn't done anything to feel guilty about." She looked into Michael's eyes and saw that he was listening intently, and that warmed her heart.

"But Danny was completely different," Sandra continued, feeling the need to share her innermost feelings with this special man. "Here was this totally cool and together person and she liked me! She didn't think I was ugly or stupid or somehow inferior. She liked me just as I was. And she saw potential I didn't know I had.

"The person you met last weekend was the transformation of me, Michael. The dowdy safe clothes and the sensible choices had been replaced by vivid colors and comfort and a style I'd only ever dreamed of before. Your sister complimented my hair and told me I was pretty and I believed her. For the first time in my life I really believed I could be attractive."

"That sounds like my baby sister," Michael said affectionately. His face took on a pensive cast. "What about the guy at the dance?"

Sandra cringed at the remembered scene.

"Randy hung around with our group. He was nice to me and liked to talk to me. We always had coffee together after class. I guess I dreamed up a romantic interest in me that wasn't there. I did ask him to the dance, you know--and he agreed. I don't know if he forgot or if he just got cold feet. I guess I'll never know for sure." Sandra shrugged. "And Vicky is my cousin. We grew up together. I've always seen her as a symbol of everything that's wrong with me. She's always seemed so perfect. Seeing her with Randy was like getting punched in the stomach."

Sandra ran out of steam. She had never in her life, except with Danny, revealed so much about her inner self. She felt a little apprehensive about Michael's reaction now that she'd bared her soul. Would he think she was pitying herself?

They walked in silence for a few moments and then he spoke. Sandra didn't realize she'd been holding her breath.

"I feel sorry for that little girl you were. She must have been so lonely," he began. Sandra was startled at the intensity of his tone. "I've never understood how human beings can be so utterly cruel to one another. It seems such a waste of energy and time.

"But you know, we all have those times when we feel we don't fit somehow. As if everyone else got the rulebook except us. I know when I was in my early teens I was so self-conscious about my body. I never seemed to be able to get it to move the way I wanted to. I was sure I looked like a complete geek."

"You?" Sandra said with surprise.

Michael nodded. "Yup, me. I was afraid to talk to girls. It was a terrible time. But I was lucky. I always knew no matter what, that my family loved me exactly as I was. I always had that support. Having a house full of sisters was helpful too. It made me understand girls and women at an early age. I've always had a respect and admiration for women. Some guys don't get the same chance to gain that kind of insight. It makes them insensitive and self-centred."

Sandra listened attentively, amazed at his understanding.

"You should be very proud of the changes you've made for yourself, Sandra. It shows that you're growing in spirit and self-respect. You really are a very sweet girl, you know. I sense that you're just beginning to find the real you."

"You really think so?"

"Absolutely. You just have to believe in yourself and you can't go wrong." He smiled and gently took her hand in his so that they walked along connected. Sandra felt warm in spite of the brisk, cool breeze.

"I'm sorry, and a bit mortified," Sandra added with a laugh, "that you had to witness my temper tantrum. I'm not usually so inflammable."

Michael chuckled. "Not to worry. It sounds like your cousin and that guy deserved the explosion. I'm just sorry that our date was cut short."

"Really?" Sandra flushed with delight.

"Really," he said, stopping and facing her. He stood there for a long moment, gazing deeply into her eyes. "I never got a chance to kiss you goodnight."

Sandra swallowed. She could hear a buzzing in her ears.

"You what?" was all she could utter.

Stepping closer, his eyes raked over her lips.

"I always kiss my dates good-night," he murmured before pressing his warm lips to hers.

Sandra pulled away.

"Please don't do anything out of pity," she said, her eyes threatening tears.

"Believe me," he said huskily, "pity is definitely not what I'm feeling." Once again he captured her lips.

Time stood still as Sandra felt his arms encircle her and his kiss become deeper and more insistent. Her heart hammered in her chest and she was sure that if he let go of her she would soar to the sky. She wound her arms around his neck, intensely aware of the breath from his nostrils on her cheek, his tongue tentatively exploring her lips, his hands moving sensuously up and down her back. She was vaguely aware that her lips had parted slightly and then tip of his tongue surged forward. Shyly, she sent her own tongue to greet his, an electric dance of sensual exploration beginning. He tasted sweet. Their lips seemed magnetized, each nerve ending exposed, blood pounding at the sheer excitement of the moment. Too soon it ended and Sandra staggered as his lips left hers.

His breathing was raspy, as was hers. They stood, still wrapped in each other's arms, just looking deeply in each other's eyes. Intense unspoken messages passed between them. It was as if they struck a kind of bargain, yet neither of them could have articulated just what that bargain was.

Michael was the first to speak.

"I suppose I should get you back to the house," he said, stepping back but still holding her hand. "Your parents will no doubt be wondering what this visit is all about."

"Yes," Sandra said breathlessly. "I guess you're right. I...I...I don't know what to say." She looked at him, pleading for understanding.

"Then don't say anything," he said, instantly understanding. "We both need to think. I'm not sure what just happened here. But..." his gaze was now intently fixed on hers, "...I do know that I want to figure this out. Can I see you again, soon?"

"Yes," she said quickly, her heart thumping uncontrollably.

"I'll be in touch," he said squeezing her hand before heading back toward the car. They walked in silence, with Sandra in a daze. She felt somehow removed from herself, as if detached and watching this couple from a distance. In that moment, she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that she was totally, helplessly, in love with this man. And she knew she had never been more afraid.

Chapter Seven

Sandra was deep in thought as she let herself into her parents' house after watching Michael drive away. Her mind drifted back to that magical moment on the boardwalk when he kissed her with such passion and her whole life had changed. It took her a moment to realize that she wasn't alone and that an eerie quiet blanketed the room. Lifting her head, she was horrified to find her cousin cosily ensconced in the living room obviously deep in discussion with Sandra's mother. She stood, dumbfounded.

"Well, aren't you going to say hello to your cousin?" her mother said, disapproval heavy in her voice.

"Certainly," Sandra said quietly, "Hello Vicky. How are you?"

She looked at her cousin, daring her to speak.

"I'm fine, Sandy. Just fine," Victoria said, a hard edge to her voice. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"I don't know," Sandy said petulantly, shrugging herself out of her coat.

"Victoria has been telling me some interesting things," Mrs. Reese said.

"Oh?" Sandra tried to sound nonchalant. A cold chill went down her spine. Damn her cousin for interfering!

"Yes," her mother continued, "it seems that you made quite a scene at the dance last night. What do you have to say for yourself?"

Choosing to bluff her way through, Sandra casually flopped down on a plush armchair and became intently focused on her fingernails.

"About what?" she asked.

"Oh, for pity's sake!" her mother said. "Stop acting like a child and tell me what you were up to last night."

Sandra looked defensively at her mother. "What did Vicky tell you?"

"Fine," Mrs. Reese sighed, "if you choose to behave in this manner, so be it. Victoria, tell your cousin what you just told me."

"All right, Aunt Sylvia."

Sandra gritted her teeth at her cousin's simpering tone.

"I ran into Sandra at the dance last night. All I said was hello and she bit my head off, accusing me and the boy I was with of making fun and conspiring against her. She completely humiliated me in front of everybody and for no reason!"

“No reason!!" Furious, Sandra shot to her feet. "How can you sit there and say that I had no reason! Randy was my date for the dance and you took him away from me! That was my reason!!"

"Don't be silly," Vicky said. "Randy asked me to the dance last weekend when I met him at a friend's party."

"Well," Sandra continued, pacing now in her anger, "I asked him last week when we had our regular coffee date after class."

"You asked a boy to a dance?" her mother said in obvious disapproval. "I hardly think that's appropriate."

"Oh Mom," Sandra said with uncharacteristic rudeness. "Don't be so old-fashioned. Girls ask guys out all the time. It's no big deal. And I did ask Randy to the dance," she said, turning back to her cousin.

"Well, I didn't know," Vicky said defensively. "How could I know? You've never made an effort to see me at school to tell me anything! I met him at the party and we hit it off. I thought he was cute, so when he asked me to the dance, I said yes. If it's true that you asked him first--"

"It is!" Sandra barked.

"I didn't know! How could I have? I never see you. We never talk. I'm not a mind reader and he didn't tell me! I didn't do anything wrong and I really resent you acting like I'm some sort of criminal!" Her voice began to wobble as if tears weren't far behind.

Suddenly Sandra seemed not to be on such certain ground. "You didn't know?" she said.

"No!"

"But, I thought..." Sandra faltered over the words.

"No, you didn't think," her mother said, anger tingeing her words. "I'm very disappointed in you for treating Victoria in this manner. You owe her an apology and I hope you'll make things right between you before you leave this house today!" She got up and strode from the room.

The two girls sat in silence for a moment. Sandra broke the silence first.

"He didn't tell you I had asked him to the dance?" She still had trouble believing that Vicky hadn't known.

"No, he didn't tell me. Why won't you believe me?" Tears sprang into Vicky's eyes. Her bottom lip quivered.

Sandra felt awful. With sudden clarity of thought, she realized that Vicky was telling the truth and was very hurt by her cousin's accusations. Sandra looked at the slender girl with new eyes and was surprised to see a vulnerable, wounded child. It was the first time she'd felt an affinity for Vicky and it startled her.

"I'm sorry, Vicky," she said softly. "I was wrong to suspect you of doing something so terrible. Please don't cry." Sandra's own throat held a lump she was having trouble swallowing.

"It's okay," Vicky said, reaching for a tissue. "I just can't figure out why you would believe something like that."

Sandra sighed. How did she explain a lifetime of insecurity to someone who had it all together?

"You've never had to deal with feeling like an outsider. You've always had it all. I've always felt like I didn't measure up somehow and you being so perfect, just made it seem worse. I always felt that people compared us and I came up wanting." Sandra paused, hoping she could make her cousin understand.

"Perfect? What makes you think that I'm perfect?" Victoria said with genuine puzzlement. "I'm far from perfect."

"What? Have you looked in a mirror lately? You're gorgeous! I'm not surprised that guys fall down at your feet every time you walk into a room."

Again Vicky was astounded. "Where on earth did you get that idea?"

"Well, look at yourself," Sandra said, bitterness welling up inside her. "You're small, slender, the perfect size five. You have perfect blonde hair and perfect white teeth and perfect smooth skin. You have perfect clothes and the perfect life. Perfect, perfect, perfect. Me?" She gave a humourless laugh. "I'm big and awkward and certainly don't fit into anyone's idea of pretty."

"Oh Sandra," Vicky said with a heavy sigh. "Are you really that blind?"

"What do you mean?" Sandra said.

"I've always envied you, you know," Vicky said.

Sandra was confused. Vicky envied her?

"You've always been the brains in the family," Vicky continued, "getting good grades so easily. I kind of scraped through though I did try. Girls like me get treated like bits of fluff. It's hard to be taken seriously. No one expects much from pretty girls. I would much rather have had your style."

"My what?" Sandra plopped down into the armchair again. She couldn't believe her ears.

"You have such a striking presence; tall, that gorgeous hair, and your warm presence. People are drawn to you because you're smart and kind and you really listen to them. Going to college really suited you, Sandra. You've blossomed in a way I knew you would. Remember, I said you had to establish your own style? I was right. You have, and you look wonderful."

"I do? You think I look wonderful?" Sandra paused for a moment to take it all in. "Oh, I really don't get it. I just don't get it at all! I've envied you all my life and now you're telling me that you've envied me? It's too much!"

Both girls looked wide-eyed at each other and then in unison, broke into gales of laughter. All the pent-up emotion of the last few hours erupted into burst after burst of helpless mirth. The girls collapsed, tears streaming down their faces, their laughter mixed with squeals.

"What on earth has gotten into you both?" an astonished Mrs. Reese said as she entered the room.

"Oh, Mom," Sandra wheezed, "you wouldn't believe it if I told you." Once again, both girls collapsed in laughter.

"Well, that may be so," Mrs. Reese sniffed in obvious disapproval, "but I'd like to know if you have apologized to your cousin for your shameful behavior."

"Everything's okay, Aunt Sylvia," Victoria said, hiccupping.

"Yeah, Mom," Sandra added. "Everything's okay."

"Well, then," her mother sniffed, again registering her further disapproval. She didn't like the feeling of being out of control of the situation. "Perhaps you should go back to school and get on with things. Forget this boy who's upset you so and concentrate on your studies. That's why your father and I are paying for college. Not for a social life."

"Oh, Mom," Sandra said, looking at her mother fondly.

Mrs. Reese seemed momentarily at a loss. Quickly pulling herself together, she said, "Don't 'Oh Mom' me. Get your things together. Your father will drive you both back to school after lunch." That taken care of, she walked stiff-backed from the room. Sandra watched her go, a new understanding in her eyes.

"Do you suppose she'll ever get it?" she asked her cousin.

"It's her generation," Vicky replied sagely. "Things were different when she was young. You can't expect her to understand it all now. It's a different time entirely."

"I guess," Sandra said. "So what do we do about Randy?"

"Are you still interested in him?" Vicky asked carefully.

"God no!" Sandra said vehemently. "If he can't remember me asking him to the dance, I wonder how much I really meant to him at all, even as a friend."

"He probably liked you as much as he liked anyone," Vicky said. "Randy is the kind of person who's all wrapped up in himself. They have a way of saying the right thing to everyone to please them and in the end it makes their own lives nice and easy. That's Randy. He likes things nice and easy." Vicky started to giggle. "You should have seen his face when you went off on us. I thought he'd swallow his tongue. I'm sure no one in his life has ever spoken to him like that. It really shook him."

"Good!" Sandra said with satisfaction.

"What will you do?" Vicky asked.

"I'll cross that bridge when I come to it. First I'll have to deal with the embarrassment of everyone seeing me lose it like that."

"Don't worry," Vicky said. "That kind of thing blows over fast. There's always some new piece of gossip to take its place. And speaking of gossip, tell me about Mr. Hunk from the dance."

Sandra blushed, suddenly nervous to be on this ground. "Michael?"

"Is that his name?" Vicky took in Sandra's nervous demeanor and smiled to herself.

"He's just a friend," Sandra said guiltily, though why she should feel guilty, she didn't know. "Actually, he's my roommate's brother. He just came as a favor to Danielle."

"I see," Vicky said. "Some favor." She winked. "Was it a favor to come and see you here too?"

Sandra blushed at the memory of the kiss on the boardwalk. "Danny was worried," she said lamely.

"Right." Vicky nodded skeptically. "Well, if you don't want to talk about it right now, that's okay. But as family, I insist that I get full disclosure when you're ready."

Sandra smiled, realizing that Victoria understood more that Sandra had realized. Yet she found she didn't mind. This morning truly was full of surprises.

"Well," Sandra said, standing up. "I suppose I should go upstairs and get repacked and ready. Knowing Mom, lunch will be ready at the dot of twelve and Dad will have the car running by twelve-thirty."

Victoria laughed and followed Sandra upstairs to her room. Sandra's heart was light, her step displaying a newfound zest.

Chapter Eight

Sandra found a delegation waiting for her in her room back on campus.

"The prodigal returns," Danny pronounced, leaping up to wrap Sandra in an enthusiastic bear hug. She stepped back and looked Sandra over from head to toe. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Sandra said softly. "Really," this directed to the rest of the group assembled in her room.

"You made quite an impression last night," Amber King said from her position in the middle of Sandra's bed.

"The place was abuzz after you left," Erin King added to her twin's comment.

"I think you were great!" Rita Wong said. She was perched on Garth's knee. There was no mistaking they were an item now.

"Don't get any ideas," Garth said, nuzzling his girlfriend's neck.

"Then don't do anything stupid," Rita murmured, running her fingers through Garth's tousled hair.

"Did you see Mikey?" Danielle asked worriedly.

Sandra felt the heat in her face but tried to appear normal. "Yes," she replied. "I'll tell you later." Danny looked puzzled but didn't pursue the subject.

"Erin and I had coffee with Randy this morning," Amber said, her hands now busy braiding her sister's hair.

"Oh?" Sandra said, busily unpacking her things and putting them away. She didn't look at Amber as the other girl continued.

"He feels really bad about what happened." This brought a snort of derision from Danny.

"Yeah," Erin continued. "He says he didn't remember you asking him to the dance. He met Victoria at some party and they hit it off. He asked her that night. He didn't know she was your cousin. Actually, none of us knew she was your cousin. How come you never talked about her or introduced her or anything?"

"It's complicated," Sandra said, putting the last of her things away in the wardrobe. Turning to her friends, she smiled warmly. "Vicky came to see me at my parent's place this morning and we worked things out. She didn't know that Randy and I were friends either."

"Still," Rita said, "it was a rotten thing he did to you."

"Yeah," Garth agreed. "It gives all us guys a bad name."

"Don't be too hard on him," Sandra said. "I think I made too big a deal out of everything." A knock sounded at the door.

"I wonder who that can be," Danny remarked, getting up to open the door. Randy stood on the other side.

"Hi," he said, nervously running his hand through his hair. "Is Sandy here?" Danny stepped back and gestured him into the room.

"We have to go," Rita said, standing and pulling Garth up after her. "See you later." Rita breezed past Randy without glancing at him. Garth shrugged sheepishly and followed his girlfriend.

"We've gotta go too," Amber said. "I have an essay due tomorrow."

"And I have to get to the library," Erin said. The two redheads left, chattering companionably.

Sandra, Danny and Randy stood awkwardly together for a moment before Danny cleared her throat and bustled around picking up her knapsack and a pile of books.

"I'll leave you two alone," she said briskly. "I'll be in the coffee shop." With a meaningful look in Sandra's direction, she left, closing the door behind her.

A long silence stretched between the two young people. It was Randy who finally spoke.

"Um...are you all right?" His voice cracked strangely.

An odd sort of peace descended on Sandra. She had expected at this moment to feel awkward and out of her depth. Instead, she felt strong and in control. It was perfectly clear what she had to do.

"I'm fine," she said, smiling at the bewildered boy. "I'm sorry for all the fuss last night. That was the other Sandra. You know, my evil twin?" She smiled. "She's gone now, and I don't expect she'll be back."

"I thought you'd be really angry," Randy said, looking at her with new respect. "I honestly didn't remember you asking me to take you to the dance. And I didn't know Vic was your cousin."

"I know," Sandra said.

"You're not like other girls, are you? You're a good friend," he continued, struggling to find the right words. "I wouldn't want to jeopardize that."

"You didn't," Sandra said, to his evident surprise.

"Oh. If that's so, then I'm glad." He looked at her intently. "You're sure you're all right?"

Laughing, she hugged him. "Yes, I'm all right. Now stop worrying. A lot's happened in the last twenty-four hours. I won't go into it now. Some day we'll have coffee and I'll tell you everything. That's if we're still on for coffee after class."

"Yeah, sure," Randy said in relief. "I'd like that."

"Good, now run along. I have to get cleaned up and then I have a heap of explaining to do to my roommate. See you later." On those words, she ushered him out the door and closed it.

Sandra took a deep breath and let it out slowly. 'You handled that pretty well', she thought to herself. Smiling, she pulled a brush through her long hair, blew herself a kiss in the mirror and left to find Danny.

She found her in the campus coffee shop. Sandra's heart skipped a beat when she saw that Danny wasn't alone. Michael sat close to his sister, holding her hand. Danny was obviously upset, Michael obviously comforting her. She was loath to interrupt, but Michael spotted her and gestured her over to the table.

"Are you sure I'm not intruding?" she asked anxiously.

"It's okay," Danny said, smiling wanly at her friend.

"What's wrong?" Sandra asked.

"It's Dad." Tears welled up in Danny's eyes. "He's in the hospital."

"What?" Sandra was shocked. She thought of the forceful vital man she had met last weekend. It didn't seem possible he could be sick.

"Dad had a mild heart attack," Michael said. Sandra saw how pale he was, how tired. "He'll be fine, but he has to take it easy for a while."

"What happened?" Sandra asked. "He looked fine."

Danny and Michael looked at each other, seeming to make a silent decision together.

"It's awful, Sandy," Danny said. "Those men were back at the store again. They're more determined than ever to force Dad out. When Michael was still at school, they threatened that bad things would happen if he didn't pay them big insurance payments for protection. It would bankrupt him. Dad's not the kind of man to be bullied. He told them that the store was a family business that had grown in that very neighborhood. It was a good neighborhood, where everyone knew everyone else. He told them that there was no danger of robbery or vandalism, because of that. He basically told them to take a hike. So they left. But then things started to happen."

"What things?" Sandra asked.

"Windows were smashed, graffiti appeared overnight, business began to fall off," Michael answered. "Dad found out that people were being warned away from his store. They were afraid to come there. He lost one of his major suppliers and there were rumblings that the others would follow. He had to survive. He didn't want to lose the business. So he gave in and started to pay protection to these crooks. He was ashamed, so he didn't tell anyone in the family."

"That's awful!" Sandra couldn't believe her ears. It was like a plot from a movie.

"That's not all," Danny continued, a noticeable quaver in her voice. "They were mad because he was so hard-headed, so they upped the amount he was to pay. And you remember Sophie's caterer that cancelled? Well, it seems it was bought out months ago by this same group. Everywhere you turn, they're there!"

"What brought on the heart attack?" Sandra said, reaching out grab Danny's hand.

"When they showed up this week," Michael said, "they upped his payment again. He protested that it was too much, that he could lose the business. They just laughed and told him that he should have thought of that in the beginning. I've been going over the books and it's pretty grim. If we don't get these bloodsuckers off our back and soon, we could very well lose the store. Dad couldn't take the thought of that. He kept saying, what would happen to his family. I think the pressure just became too much. I got home this afternoon just after the ambulance had been to the house. Carla was waiting to tell me what had happened. I went to the hospital to make sure Dad and Mom were okay and then I thought I'd come up here to tell Danny and maybe take her home."

"You should go home, Danny," Sandra said. "Classes can wait. I'm sure the profs will understand."

Danny nodded and sniffed back her tears.

"Reading week is coming up," she said, grabbing Sandra's hand. "Will you come to the city and spend it with me? I want you to."

"Of course I'll come," Sandra said.

"Good." Danny seemed relieved. "I'll go get my stuff, Mikey, and meet you at the car. You stay here and have another coffee with Sandy."

Sandra and Michael sat in an island of quiet for the first few moments after Danny left. A steady flow of students came and went around them, chattering and laughing, free of care in the safe haven of the campus.

"You look tired," Sandra said softly, examining his face, taking in the circles under his dark, thickly-lashed eyes, and the pallor of his normally ruddy complexion.

“I haven't had much sleep. It's been a busy day." He looked back at her and smiled.

Sandra blushed, remembering their kiss, the feel of his arms around her, the teasing flicker of his tongue against hers.

"I remember too," Michael said softly, reaching across the table to take her hand in his. It was uncanny how he seemed able to read her mind.

"What will you do?" she asked him.

"About you? Try to kiss you again, I think," he said, deliberately misunderstanding her.

Her blush deepened. "No, I mean, about your dad and the store."

Michael shook his head. "I'm not sure yet. I guess I'll have to figure it out as we go along. My dad's health comes first. The rest will..." He shrugged his uncertainty. "Come on. Walk me to the car."

As they left the coffee shop, it seemed natural for Michael to take Sandra's hand. Sandra liked how it felt to walk hand-in-hand with this handsome man. His hand was big, strong and warm. Tingles coursed up her arm, making her pulse quicken. She was aware that people could see them and she felt proud that he laid a claim to her, so to speak, with this gesture. It seemed that too soon they were at the car and she'd have to say good-bye.

Michael turned to face her and took her other hand in his. He looked deeply into her wide brown eyes.

"We have some unfinished business, you and I," he said.

"Do we?" she asked breathlessly, not daring to believe that someone like Michael could have serious intentions regarding her.

"Yes, we do." He squeezed her hands for emphasis. "I'm glad Danny asked you to come up during your reading week. We can find some time to talk, okay?"

"Okay." Her voice was barely a whisper.

"See you soon," Michael said softly. Slowly, his eyes never leaving hers, he bent his head. Their lips met in a gentle, sweet kiss. Almost before it had started it was over, yet inside Sandra raged a firestorm of emotion that threatened to overwhelm her.

"Ahem!" Both Sandra and Michael jumped. "Don't let me intrude," Danny said, fighting a grin as she loaded her gear into the car.

"Flawless timing, as usual," Michael said dryly.

Sandra was intensely embarrassed to be caught by Danny like this. She hadn't really had a chance to tell her about Michael's visit or their walk. Would Danny be upset?

With a last squeeze of her hands, Michael went around to the driver's side of the car and got in. Danny seemed to have her things stored and turned to her friend.

"I'll miss you, roomie," she said, her voice getting choked. "Come as soon as you can." Throwing her arms around Sandra in a hug, she whispered so only Sandra could hear. "You sly fox, you!"

Chapter Nine

Sandra thought reading week would never arrive. Classes and assignments kept her working steadily, but her mind kept going back to Danny's parting words. Her? A sly fox? Did she mean that it was a clever thing that she caught Michael's eye? Or did Danny think she had somehow tricked him? But surely Danny knew Sandra better than that. Or did her outrageous outburst at the dance lead Danny to believe that Sandra was someone other than what she actually was? It was almost physically painful to keep running it around in her head. She knew she wouldn't rest until she'd had a chance to talk to Danny and clear the air.

And then, of course, there was Michael. 'We have unfinished business, you and I', he'd said. Did she dare hope that he was falling in love with her? Was she reading the signals correctly? God, how she wished she were more astute where men were concerned. She didn't trust her perceptions. Look at what a mess she'd made of the whole Randy episode.

To make matters even more complicated, her mother made a huge fuss over her decision to spend her reading week in the city with Danny and her family.

"Your father and I were hoping you'd come home for the week," her mother scolded during their telephone conversation. "Your father will be very disappointed."

"It's only one week, Mom," Sandra said for the tenth time. "Danny's going through a rough time right now. Her dad's in the hospital. She needs me there."

"She has that enormous family to help her," Mrs. Reese replied. Somehow Sandra felt that her mother disapproved of the large clan, as if the Santorellis were shamefully prolific. She also knew that her mother saw Danny's family as coming from a different social strata, not as refined and educated as hers.

"Yes Mom, but I'm her best friend," Sandra argued. "The family will be busy at the store and the hospital."

"Then that's where Danielle will be too," her mother stated logically.

Sandra took a deep breath as anger washed over her. She had to be careful to avoid angering her mother. She was determined to go to Danny's home.

"It's that brother of hers, isn't it," Mrs. Reese said. Sandra was stunned by her mother's unaccustomed insight.

"What do you mean?" Sandra asked, stalling for time to think.

"That young man, the one that came to see you here. You like him, don't you?" Sandra's mother said.

"He's very nice," Sandra hedged.

"That's not what I'm asking," her mother said, irritation evident in her voice. "I've asked if you like him."

"Yes," Sandra said. What was the use? Her mother had guessed.

"Hmmm," continued the interrogation. "Does he feel the same way?"

"Yes, I think he does," Sandra said, suddenly wary.

"I see."

Her mother's clipped tones were all too familiar to Sandra. There was no doubt that her mother was angry.

"Just when were you going to tell your father and me?"

"There's really nothing to tell yet, Mom. We're still figuring out what's happening here."

"It's gone that far!" Sandra could almost sense her mother's flushed face.

"It hasn't gone anywhere, Mom," Sandra said, becoming defensive. "We're friends...with potential."

"Oh, don't be so naive," her mother snapped. "I suppose he's why you really want to go to the city."

"Mom, try to understand." Sandra was suddenly weary. "Danny is my best friend. She needs me right now. She would do the same for me if the situation were reversed. It has nothing to do with Michael. At least, that's not why I'm going. Mom, I'm sorry you don't understand why I have to do this," Sandra said in measured tones. "But I'm going. I'll call you when I get there and I'll keep you posted about what's happening. I love you. Give my love to Daddy. Bye Mom." And she hung up, not giving her mother another chance to begin a new round of arguing.

Never in her life had she openly defied her parents' wishes. She found she liked the sensation. It seemed to Sandra that the awkward, shy introvert, so socially clumsy and doubtful of herself, had blossomed these last few months. This was a new Sandra, full of resolve; attractive, gaining confidence. She realized for the first time in her life she felt normal--that she belonged--and it felt good.

She also decided to talk to Vicky before going to the Santorelli's. Maybe a little chat with someone with more dating experience would help Sandra sort out her confusion. Vicky was delighted when Sandra called.

"Why haven't we done this sooner?" Vicky said as they grabbed a table in the coffee shop.

"We went over this ground," Sandra said. "You. Me. Opposite ends of the spectrum. It's just now that I'm realizing we're not so different."

"I never thought so," Vicky said. "Not really. But that's all water under the bridge now. What did you want to talk about?"

"Michael."

"I thought so," Vicky said with a smile.

"It seems that there's something between us. An ... attraction." Sandra scrambled for the right words. "He likes me and I like him."

"That's a good start." Vicky's smile widened.

"I sound so lame, don't I?" Sandra said with a self-deprecating grin. "It's all so new to me. Will I ever feel sure of myself?"

"It's a funny thing about relationships," Vicky said. "When it's right, you're walking on air and you feel you can conquer the world."

"Yes." Sandra recognized the truth of her cousin's words.

"Trust your heart," Vicky said. "You're a bright and perceptive person. Look in his eyes and read what's there. That should answer any questions you have. How do you feel?"

"Like I'm on cloud nine." Sandra sighed, causing Vicky to laugh with delight.

"Well, then, I'd say you're hooked. Are you seeing him again soon?"

"I'm spending the week with Danny and her family."

"Good. Then find the time to be alone with him and do what I said. Look in his eyes and see what's there. I'll expect a full report when you get back."

"Thanks, Vic. I will." Sandra couldn't understand how she could have misjudged her cousin so badly all these years. Had she really been so childish?

The bus seemed to take forever to get to the city. Danny was waiting for her at the depot. The two friends screamed at the sight of one another and embraced fiercely.

"I'm so glad you're here," Danny said, tears threatening to break.

"Me too," Sandra said, equally moved. "How's your dad?"

"He's great!" Danny beamed. "He has to take it easy, but he's at home and as stubborn as ever." The girls laughed.

"And how's Michael," Sandra asked, too nervous to look at her friend.

"Michael? He's okay." Sandra detected a strange note in Danny's voice and looked at her sharply. She caught the twinkle in Danny's eyes and realized she was being teased. As she blushed, Danny let out a whoop of laughter.

"You should see your face," she said. "I can read you like a book. If Michael's restless mood, and the fact that he checked the calendar every two minutes, wasn't evidence enough, your face gives it all away."

"What do you mean?" Sandra's heart pounded and her palms were suddenly sweaty.

"You and Michael," Danny said. "I don't know when it happened, but I'd say cupid nailed you both."

"I don't understand..."

"Okay. I'll lay it out," Danny said as the two girls wended their way through the crowd in the depot. "Both you and Michael are acting like a pair of lovestruck loonies. Not to mention that little tender moment I witnessed at the car when he came to pick me up. Now, I have to tell you, I'm hurt that I wasn't the first to know, but I'll get over it." All this was said in Danny's usual tongue-in-cheek style.

"You don't mind?" Sandra said, not bothering to contradict Danny's observations.

"Mind! Hell no!" Danny looked squarely at her best friend. "I can't think of two nicer people to find each other. You're both lucky."

"Oh, Danny," Sandra said, relieved to be able to talk about it at last, "I'm so scared."

"What are you scared of?"

"What if I blow it?" There. It was out. That's what was gnawing at the back of her mind. What if she was misreading everything like she did with Randy?

"Oh man, what a ninny!" Danny ushered Sandra to the car. Muttering to herself, she said, "What will I do with you two? Honestly, do I have to do everything myself? Doesn't anyone have eyes in their heads to see what's happening here? I wish people would just accept things that are and get on with it."

It was obvious that a reply wasn't needed. Sandra settled back in her seat, happy to be here with Danny and anxious now to get to Michael.

"What's been happening at the store?" Sandra asked as they pulled onto the freeway. "Are those people still around?"

Danny's face darkened.

"Yeah, they've been around," she said tightly. "Carla and Michael have been running things. Customers started coming back when word got out about Dad. I guess people were feeling guilty like it was their fault or something. These two big guys in expensive suits came in the other day when I was there. Michael was pretty pissed off. He blamed them outright for Dad's heart attack. They just laughed and said the old man brought it on himself by being stubborn and pigheaded. I thought Michael would hit one of them, but he didn't. He just told them to leave us alone and respect what the family was going through right now. They said they were reasonable people. Reasonable! Can you believe that crock? And then they said they'd wait, for now. They made it sound like it was a threat."

Sandra's heart pounded at the thought of the potential danger Michael had been in.

"Do you think they'll do something terrible?"

"Not right now," Danny said. "But they won't stay patient forever. We've got to make some kind of decision about how to deal with these guys."

"What about the police?"

"Ah, the cops won't do anything because there's no hard evidence," Danny said hotly. "You'd think that honest people could get justice in this world. But damn it, it seems as if the crooks get all the breaks! Boy, when I'm a lawyer..." The rest went unsaid.

"Isn't it enough that all of you are witnesses to the extortion?" Sandra asked.

"It's a case of our word against theirs," Danny said bitterly. "Sure, everyone knows exactly what these people are, but on paper, at least on the surface, they're legitimate businessmen. And they have high-powered attorneys of their own. Unless the cops hear them threatening or catch them doing something illegal, we're sunk."

"There has to be a way to get something against them." Sandra seemed deep in thought.

"Well, Miss Detective," Danny said, "if you think of anything brilliant, let me know."

The rest of the ride passed quietly as a spark of an idea formed in Sandra's mind. Was it possible she might be able to help Danny and Michael and the others?

Michael was waiting for them when they got to the house. To Danny's infinite amusement, he didn't even say hello, but just went directly to Sandra and pulled her into his arms. The two stood locked in their embrace, aware only of each other and this precious moment.

"Um...if I might intrude," Danny said, barely holding back her laughter. Not letting Sandra go, Michael looked at his sister as if seeing her for the first time.

"Oh, hi sis," he said, his eyes wandering back to Sandra's flushed face.

"Oh, never mind!" Danny said, shaking her head. "I'll take Sandra's stuff inside and let the family know we're here. When you two decide to come up for air, I'll meet you inside."

"Fine, fine," Michael said absently. Danny left them, chuckling to herself.

"I thought she'd never leave," Michael said, caressing Sandra's face and lifting her hair off her neck. Delightful shivers ran down Sandra's spine.

"I'm so happy to see you," Sandra said, her voice quavering with relief and joy. Tentatively she reached up and ran her thumb across his brow and then her fingers through his hair. It felt so soft on her fingers. She marveled that it could be so soft.

"I've missed you," he said, threading his fingers through the hair at the nape of her neck with one hand as he delicately brushed a strand of hair from her cheek with the other.

"I've missed you too," she said running her hands down his sides, feeling the muscular strength of him.

They gazed deeply into each other's eyes. Words weren't needed between them--their hearts spoke instead. With the gentlest of caresses, his hands cupped her face, his thumbs a feathery touch on her cheeks. She sighed as his lips took possession of hers in a tender, loving kiss. His hands slid down her neck and then across her back, pulling her close into the circle of his embrace. She wrapped her arms around him. Their kiss deepened in intensity as their lips parted, their tongues meeting in the age-old dance of sensuality. Sandra's legs felt weak. She was certain that if Michael hadn't been holding her so closely, she would have swooned at his feet. After interminable minutes their lips parted and they each stood trembling, their foreheads touching, their eyes closed.

Michael pulled back to look at Sandra's flushed face.

"Well, I guess that kiss said it all," he said, smiling at her suddenly shy demeanor.

"Yes, I guess it did," she said, her voice barely a whisper.

"I think I'm falling in love with you Sandra." Michael looked inquiringly into her eyes.

Please Lord, let him read the messages there, thought Sandra, too choked with emotion to speak at the moment.

Finally she found her voice.

"I feel the same way, Michael." She longed to feel his lips on hers again. As if reading her mind, he took possession of them again.

"Hey, you two," came Danny's intrusive voice from the doorway of the house. "The neighbors will begin to talk. You think you could tear yourselves apart long enough to come in here and say hi to the rest of the family?"

"Mind your own business, brat!" Michael laughed.

"I would if you hadn't absconded with my room-mate," she replied saucily. Sandra, not used to such teasing, pulled away from Michael and started toward the house.

"Not so fast, sweetheart," he said, grabbing her arm and pulling her into his arms. His kiss was hard and fast and obviously for Danny's amusement.

"Now I'm ready to face the family," he said with a devilish smile. "I'm sure Danny has filled them in on our little secret, so be prepared for lots of teasing and questions. They can be merciless."He laughed.

"Do you think they'll mind?" Sandra asked, suddenly worried about the Santorelli's reaction to her relationship with their son.

"Mind?" Michael said with a snort. "On the contrary, they'll see it as evidence that I've finally come to my senses."

Arm and arm, the couple entered the house.

Chapter Ten

Sandra felt as if she were living in a dream those first few days with Michael, Danny and the rest of the Santorelli clan. True to Michael's prediction, the family welcomed their relationship with open arms, and a lot of playful teasing.

"You sure about this, roomie?" Danny asked with mock concern. "He's not the easiest to get along with you know. He's grumpy in the mornings and bossy all the time. You could do a lot better." Laughter rang out as Sandra looked at her new love.

"I think I'll risk it," she said, giving Michael a playful wink.

"Oh, you do, do you?" he said with feigned indignation. "Tell me, Danny. You've been rooming with Sandra these last few months. Any warnings about her?"

"Hmmm, let's see..." she appeared to deliberate.

"Now, now!" Sandra countered, punching Danny affectionately on the arm. "Don't tell tales out of school. You might scare him off."

"No danger of that," Michael said, leaning over to plant a kiss on her cheek. Sandra smiled, radiating her contentment.

"Aarrgghh!" Danny groaned, sticking her finger in her mouth. "They're at it again. I can't take much more!"

"Jealous, are you?" Sophie quipped at her younger sister. "It seems that you're the only one that's single at the moment. Maybe we should try and find you a boyfriend."

"Uh-uh!" Danny said emphatically. "There's enough insanity around here right now. I don't need to add to it!" Everyone laughed at her pronouncement.

"Well, if my family doesn't mind too much," Michael said, "I'd like to take my girl out on the town and show her off a little."

"What about your dad, Michael," Sandra said, giddy at being called his girl, yet concerned about doing the right thing.

"My dad has his own girl," he teased.

"Oh, you!" she said as the family again burst into laughter.

"Seriously," Michael continued, "Dad's resting comfortably. He has Mom, Carla, Sophie and Danny to fuss over him. Renata and Marie arrive tomorrow. I think we can be spared for the evening."

"Aw, go on roomie," Danny quipped. "He won't leave us in peace otherwise."

"Okay," Sandra said. "I'll go get ready." As she left the room, she felt Michael's eyes follow her and heard Danny's teasing voice.

"Big brother, you look like a lovesick puppy. Ow!" It seemed Michael had retaliated.

Sandra looked at her face in the bathroom mirror. She was astounded at the radiant countenance that stared back at her. Could it be so simple that happiness made you beautiful? She had a boyfriend. She had a boyfriend! A cute one! Who thought she was pretty! Who wanted to kiss her! She hugged herself at the exhilaration of it all. And they had a date tonight. A date with her boyfriend! It was too much. She reflected on her conversation that afternoon with her mother.

"...and Mr. Santorelli looks wonderful; tired, but wonderful. He was very lucky. Danny says hi, by the way."

"And how is the rest of the family?" The reference was obvious.

"Everyone's relieved. Especially Michael. He's had full responsibility at the store while his dad's sick."

"Oh, yes, they have a meat shop or something, don't they?" Sandra was vexed at her mother's thinly veiled snobbery.

"They own Santorelli Meats. It's a lovely store." Sandra's voice heated as she defended Danny's family. "They're highly respected in the neighborhood.'

"I'm sure they are," said Mrs. Reese, apparently sensing her daughter's anger and the reason for it. "So have you and Michael decided anything?" There it was, out in the open.

"Actually, Mom, we have," Sandra said, taking a deep breath to steady the quaver in her voice. "We have a date tonight. Mom, it seems I have a boyfriend."

There was a heavy sigh from the other end of the phone. It was a sigh that spoke of long sufferance and disapproval. It was a sound that Sandra hated.

"I was afraid of this," her mother said. "Your father and I can't say we approve."

"Why, for heaven's sake?"

"For one thing, he's too old for you. The gap between eighteen and ...what was he? Twenty-two? three? ..."

"Twenty-two, Mother," Sandra snapped.

"Yes, twenty-two," Mrs. Reese continued. "That's too much difference in age. And you come from such disparate backgrounds. What do you have in common? You can't base an entire relationship on physical attraction. And speaking of such things, I don't want to hurt you but have you asked yourself what the attraction is for him? I mean, dear, most men want a more...streamlined...figure of a woman. I'm always suspicious of men who are with, shall we say, unconventional women."

"You mean fat, don't you mother?" Sandra was terribly hurt by what her mother was saying. It was the first time she had outwardly expressed such feelings towards Sandra, although Sandra had suspected they were there.

"Don't be difficult, Sandra," her mother said, again with a heavy sigh. "I just don't want to see you hurt."

"Is it so unfeasible to think that a man like Michael would find me attractive?" Sandra felt her rage building. "Is it so unnatural that he might want me because of how I look? Not everyone thinks I'm ugly like you do!"

"I do not think you are ugly," her mother said heatedly. "Don't put words into my mouth. I'm just looking out for your feelings. Don't forget the whole nasty episode with that Randy person. If that didn't teach you a lesson, then I don't suppose anything I say will make a difference. Just be cautious. Your father and I worry."

Sandra softened at these words. That was the heart of it all. She was all her parents had. It was only natural that they would be overly protective and a tad narrow-minded.

"I'm sorry Mom," Sandra said softly. "I didn't mean to snap. I know you and Daddy worry. But don't. I'm fine. Michael's a decent man. I'll bring him to the house soon and you'll see. He really cares."

"I hope so, dear." Her mother sighed. "Talk to you soon."

After Sandra hung up, she sat and thought about her mother's misgivings. And then smiled. She knew with unfailing certainty that they were unfounded. Michael was the genuine article. Her conversation with his mother a couple of days ago had confirmed it.

"You've been good for my son," Mrs. Santorelli said. She and Sandra were sitting having coffee while Danny helped at the store. "I can't remember when I've seen him so happy."

"I'm glad, Mrs. S," Sandra had said, blushing with pride. "Has he had many girlfriends?" She was amazed at her own boldness.

"A few," Mrs. Santorelli said. "He's very particular about the kind of girl he dates though."

"What kind is that?" Sandra asked.

"Well, he seems to have his father's taste for a shapely girl, one with more meat on her bones. Carlos always said that he didn't want to hug a bag of bones." The two women laughed.

"Then I guess it's no surprise Michael picked me," Sandra joked, for the first time not feeling self-conscious about her size.

"Oh, there was more than looks where you're concerned," Mrs. Santorelli said, smiling at the girl she had come to love. "He was quite hurt by a girl long ago. It made him cautious. He values honesty and sincerity, both traits you carry in full measure. You have a gentleness and sweetness that draws him too. You care about others. You're smart. You're funny. But it doesn't hurt that you're pretty too. I'm not surprised he fell hard for you."

Tears welled in Sandra's eyes as she reflected on these words said with such sincerity. No one was playing her for the fool here. Time would show her parents.

With a grin to her reflection, she started to groom herself for the big night. Remembering Danny's lessons, she carefully cleansed her face till it glowed. A light dusting of blush added to her own natural coloring. Choosing a midnight blue eyeliner, she smudged the color softly around the upper contour of her eyelid and just at the outer corner of the lower. A soft, barely there, mauve tinged her lids. Midnight blue mascara thickened her lashes, making her eyes seem large and soulful.

Thanking her genes for the natural curl and thickness of her long hair, she brushed it till it gleamed and sat thickly on her shoulders. It was a chestnut cloud around her face.

Choosing what to wear posed a little problem. She wanted to look her best, to make Michael proud. She and Danny had managed to build up quite an extensive wardrobe for her, but much of it was student casual. She wanted to look sexy, not studious. Then she saw it. One of her purchases her first weekend at Danny's had been a totally impractical vintage dress in midnight blue velvet. Cut high-waisted and buttoned down the front, it draped to just above her ankles. It had a deeply rounded neckline that revealed a saucy hint of Sandra's cleavage. The sleeves were long and tapered to the wrist. Tiny seed pearls were scattered across the bodice. In her ears she put little pearl studs. With her long hair she looked like a Renaissance maiden. Soft leather pumps and a vintage beaded bag completed her outfit.

A long low wolf whistle greeted her appearance at the kitchen door. Michael walked slowly over, unable to take his eyes off of her.

"You look beautiful," he said, softly kissing her cheek.

"Thank you," she said, knowing it to be true.

"Wow, roomie," Danny quipped. "You look like a million bucks. Watch out, big brother! Some other stud just might steal her away from you."

"Not if I can help it," Michael said quietly to Sandra alone.

"Bellissima!! If I were twenty years younger, son," said Mr. Santorelli, a teasing gleam in his eye, "I'd be chasing her myself."

"Over my dead body, husband!" Laughter erupted at the threatening look Mrs. Santorelli cast her husband. "You look lovely, dear," Mrs. Santorelli said. "You two have a nice time." Kissing both children, she and her husband left the room, and Michael and Sandra left for their date.

Michael had chosen a small, family run restaurant a few blocks from home. Fasio's had an intimate, private atmosphere. Soft lighting and the decor of rich burgundy's and greens made the place warm and inviting. Tempting aromas wafted from the kitchen and sound was muted by the thick carpets and the patrons' sense that this was a place where one spoke softly.

They were led to a table in a quiet, secluded corner. A candle flickered in the center of the table and a single pink rose sent out a faint perfume into the air. Gently, Michael helped Sandra into her chair. Then moving his own chair a little closer to hers, he sat and took her hand into both of his. He looked deeply into her eyes.

"What do you think?" he asked.

"It's perfect." She smiled.

"You are so beautiful in the candlelight."

"Thank you," she said, leaning forward to kiss him lightly for emphasis.

"May I bring you a cocktail?" The waiter's voice broke the spell winding around them.

"Champagne," Michael instructed. "It's a special night."

"I understand sir," the waiter said with a slight bow. And he glided away.

"Special?" Sandra asked.

"Of course." Michael stroked her palm with his thumb. Little did he know the sensations that coursed through Sandra's body with this little caress. "I'm out for the first time with my special amica. I want to celebrate."

"It's so overwhelming," Sandra said.

"What is?"

"This," she said, indicating their surroundings. "You. I can't believe I'm here with you. I can't believe you look at me the way you do. I can't believe you kissed me."

"Believe it," Michael said. His voice was husky with suppressed emotion. "I feel so right about us. I think I knew the moment I saw your tear-stained face the night of the dance. I wanted nothing more than to take you into my arms then and there and kiss the tears away."

"Oh, Michael," Sandra sighed. She gazed into his eyes and saw the passion there. Vicky was right. It was all there. Her heart raced as bold new thoughts entered her mind. Thoughts of hot, wet kisses. Thoughts of his hands touching her where no man had touched her. Thoughts that made her pulse race and her breath catch.

They leaned toward each other until their lips met. How sweet this kiss was. Slowly, sensuously they moved their lips against each other's. Instinctively, their mouths opened, each wanting the kiss to be deeper, more possessive, passionate.

The low murmur of sound in the restaurant faded into the distance creating an island of bliss around the couple. The waiter hesitated as he approached their table with the champagne. Accustomed as he was to romantic couples in the restaurant, he was almost embarrassed to intrude on Sandra's and Michael's moment. Then smiling to himself he decided that they probably wouldn't notice he was even there.

"Your champagne, sir. Miss," the waiter said by way of announcing his arrival. Sandra and Michael drew apart reluctantly but continued to stare into each other's eyes.

"Thank you," Michael said absently.

"Are you ready to order?"

"I already have what I want," Michael said, causing Sandra to smile prettily. Then as if becoming conscious of the waiter's presence, he smiled and said, "Give us a few more minutes, please." Bowing slightly, the waiter left.

"I'm suddenly famished," Michael declared. "Shall I order for us?" Sandra nodded. She was too besotted to think.

They feasted on the restaurant's house specialty, lasagna made with layers of paper-thin fresh made pasta, rich garlicky sauce and three cheeses. Sandra couldn't remember ever eating anything so heavenly. The waiter prepared a zesty Caesar salad at their table, wielding his utensils with extra flair. Hot, crusty slices of fresh-baked Italian bread melted in their mouths. As they sat sipping fragrant house blended coffee after the meal, Sandra leaned back in her chair and groaned.

"I am so full," she said, patting her stomach. "It was wonderful. Thank you ...sweetheart."

"You're welcome," Michael said. "We'll think of this as our special place from now on."

"Oh, yes." Sandra sighed. It just kept getting better and better.

They chose to take a long, ambling stroll after leaving the restaurant to work off the huge meal and to linger in each other's company a little while longer. The moon was high in the sky. A harvest moon, Sandra thought it was called. Big, fat and orange. Completely beautiful.

They walked, arms entwined around their waists, stopping every few steps to share a kiss and murmur those inane sweet nothings that only lovers say.

They wandered into the neighborhood park and settled on a bench looking over the pond at the park's centre. The moon reflected on its glassy surface. The air had an extra chill in it, a hint of the winter ahead. Sandra was glad to be able to snuggle into Michael's arms.

"Can I ask you a question?" she said tentatively.

"Sure. Anything."

"Why me?" she asked quietly.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, look at you," Sandra said. "You're an extremely good-looking guy. You must have girls practically falling all over themselves to get your attention. Yet, you choose to be with me. I guess I'm having trouble grasping the idea."

"You shouldn't, you know," Michael said gently. "It's very simple. I look at you and see the very attractive woman who makes my pulse race. It's that simple."

"But it's not simple," she said. "I'm not...accustomed to...Oh, I don't know...to finding myself pursued, I guess. This is all so new to me and I guess I don't entirely trust it."

"You can trust me."

"I know that," Sandra was quick to reassure. "It's my perception of things I question. I've been really mistaken before. I mean, just look at the whole Randy business as an example. I read everything really wrong. Sure, he cares about me, but only as a friend." She smiled sheepishly at Michael. "I sound like a flake, don't I?"

"I wouldn't say that," Michael said. "But you do sound pretty insecure, at least where relationships are concerned."

"Lack of experience, maybe," Sandra mused. "I've never had a...boyfriend, before." She suddenly felt very shy. "I'm kind of learning as I go along."

"Well, then, we'll learn together," he said, taking her hand in his. "Contrary to what you think, I haven't had many girlfriends myself. I always felt just a little bit geeky growing up, so even when my self-esteem improved, I wasn't a hundred percent sure how to go about the whole dating thing. It wasn't like Mom and Dad. They grew up together. They knew each other all their lives. I think they probably knew from kindergarten that they'd end up married someday. It's never been like that for me."

"We have a lot in common then," Sandra said. "Mom told me that she and Dad met on a blind date and just knew they were meant for each other. I've never felt that certain about anything..." She paused gazing up at Michael's face to gauge his reaction. "...until now."

Michael's grin lit up his face. "I'm glad, sweetheart. I'm glad you're sure about us. So am I. Before now, I haven't had a lot of luck with females. My first girlfriend really took advantage of my trusting nature. I thought she was the love of my life. It turned out I was just another trophy in her collection. She was seeing two other guys at the time we were supposed to be going steady. To make it worse, it seemed everyone knew but me. It really hurt when I found out. I never quite trusted a girl after that--until now that is. You're not like that. You're so sweet and honest." He touched his lips to her hair.

"I'm glad you feel that way. Can I ask one more question," Sandra said nervously.

"Sure." Michael heard the uncertainty in her voice.

"My size doesn't bother you?" she asked, not daring to look at him. Hearing him chuckle was not what she had expected.

"Women!" he said, shaking his head. "I've shown you in a dozen different ways that I love how you look. But just to be crystal clear, I think you're gorgeous. You have gorgeous hair and gorgeous eyes and a smile that lights up my world. You're gorgeous inside and out. I'll tell you something. I've never thought that those fashion types, or those icons of beauty were really all that hot. To me, what's beautiful is softness. Curves and motion. A woman should have a woman's shape. And to be perfectly honest, it drives me crazy the way a woman's body jiggles. Bigger is better."

"I've never heard anyone say that before," Sandra said. "I didn't know that guys thought like that."

"Well, my dad's a good example. Mom's always been heavy. He says he was always happy to have a girl he could really get hold of. He says skinny girls get lost in your arms. Oh, I admit, I had some trouble with accepting my preference at first."

"Why?" Sandra asked.

"Well, no one else in my group of male friends seemed to share my opinion that soft round girls were pretty," Michael said. "My first major crush was on my fourth grade teacher. She was tall and quite heavy, but every time I looked at her my heart flipped over and my mind went fuzzy." Sandra giggled at the image of this pre-teen Michael. "I got teased unmercifully for weeks and I started to question that maybe there was something wrong with me."

"What did you do?" Sandra felt sorry for that long ago pain.

"I finally went to my dad and asked him about it," Michael said, smiling in remembrance. "He was great. He said that it didn't matter what other people thought, only what I thought. He explained that everyone had different likes and dislikes and it was important to be true to oneself. Quite a philosopher, my dad! He talked about his own preference for large women and stated emphatically that Mom's size was a big part of the attraction, even back in elementary school. His big motto was, and is, it's all the more to love. I vowed then and there, I would never allow someone else's attitude or teasing or opinions color my own choices."

“I'm so lucky I met you," Sandra said, wrapping her arms around his waist and hugging him close.

"Believe me, so am I," Michael said, hugging her fiercely in return.

Chapter Eleven

The days flew. Danny and Sandra spent time shopping or helping at the store. To Sandra's embarrassed delight, Michael insisted on introducing her to everyone who came into the store.

"Mrs. Santini," (or Green, or Pirelli), his patter would begin, "I'd like you to meet my girlfriend, Sandra. Sandra, this is Mrs. Santini."

"Girlfriend!" the ladies would crow delightedly, giving her a thorough once-over before pronouncing, "Bella, bella!" Danny would snort with pretended derision, and Carla would promptly silence her as Michael shot dirty looks in her direction. Sandra took it all in with bemusement. She felt like she was in the middle of some other girl's life.

One customer caused a moment or two of doubt for Sandra. An unpleasant old woman named Mrs. MacTavish came into the store and was given the same introductions. After looking Sandra over thoroughly she pursed her lips and said,

"You're quite a big girl, aren't you?"

Sandra had flushed crimson and looked around in panic, hoping no one could hear this horrible woman.

"I beg your pardon?" was all she could think of to respond. All the while, she wished the old crone would just vanish.

"You're quite a..." The woman's louder voice was cut off by Michael's smooth baritone.

"She's quite a girl, all right, Mrs. MacTavish," he said, putting his arm protectively around Sandra's shoulders. "And I love every square inch of her." That was sufficient to cause the woman to clamp her jaws shut and leave the store. Danny let out a peal of laughter.

"Way to go, Mikey!" she said. "That's the first I've ever seen the old biddy at a loss for words."

"Thank you," Sandra said softly, smiling at Michael.

"My pleasure," Michael smiled back. "I've got to take care of my beautiful girl." Instantly, any damage Mrs. MacTavish's careless words had done was erased. It was enough that Michael thought her beautiful.

Evenings were Michael's and Sandra's. They went to movies or charming little restaurants around the city. They walked and talked and tried to ferret out all the little fascinating tidbits that lovers want to know about each other. She found out he loved raspberries and roller coasters and when he was little he had a pet rabbit named Stu. He discovered she loved crosswords and old sappy movies and when she was five, she fell out of a tree and broke her arm. Nothing was too trivial. They each found themselves falling deeper and deeper in love with the other.

Thursday brought a surprising announcement from Carlo Santorelli. Sitting the family down after dinner, he announced his retirement.

"It's time for me to take it easy," he said over his family's protests. Tapping his chest, he said, "My ticker is telling me that I need to rest. Michael and Carla are more than able to run the store. I want to spend time with my cara esposa..." here he smiled at Loretta. "...maybe take the honeymoon we could never afford when we got married. Whaddya say, Loretta? How about a trip to Italy, huh?"

"Whatever you want, honey," she said smiling indulgently.

"What about my wedding?" Sophie whined, bringing eruptions of laughter from the others.

"Aw, don't worry, sweetheart," Carlo said, planting a kiss on his daughter's forehead. "We'll get you married off before we make any plans."

"Sophie, you're such a dope!" Danny said. More laughter erupted. God, but Sandra loved this family. A nagging worry niggled at her mind just then. She had been so wrapped up in her time with Michael that she hadn't phoned her parents since that fateful call with her mother. They'd be wondering what she was up to, and her mother would be hurt by the neglect. But she didn't want to spoil this euphoria she felt by another confrontation with her mom. What about her mother's attitude about the Santorelli's? Why was she so down on people she didn't even know? It was all too much to sort out.

It turned out the next day didn't offer an opportunity to call them anyway. She and Danny were recruited to help out at the store while Michael and his father went to the lawyer's to arrange the transfer of ownership. Friday's were always particularly busy in the store and this one was no different.

The ladies of the neighborhood had done a good job of spreading the news that Michael Santorelli finally had a serious girlfriend. It seemed to Sandra that every person that came in started their conversation with, So you're Michael's girl. What a pretty girl. It always made Sandra blush, much to the customers' approval. Her face seemed frozen in a permanent smile and her head was spinning with all the little stories that each one shared. He was the cutest little boy...When he was baptised...I remember the time...It seems only yesterday... On and on it went. Danny was no help either.

"How does it feel to be the prize pony in the show?" she teased. "Why don't you do a little dance and really entertain them?"

Sandra had to grin. She did feel a little on display. But at least that horrid Mrs. MacTavish didn't come back.

The bell on the door rang again, and Sandra turned to greet the new customer. She was brought up short by the menacing presence of three large men dressed in expensive grey suits. They seemed so out of place amidst the little old ladies buying ground beef and pork chops.

Patiently the three men stood back and waited while each of the female customers was served and departed. One of the men stood near the door to escort the ladies through and to gently bar any new customers from entering. It was clear to Danny and Sandra the store was being quietly closed.

"I'll go get Carla," Danny whispered in Sandra's ear. Her older sister was cutting meat in the back room. She emerged with Danny in a few moments, keeping a tight grip on the butcher knife she had been using.

"What do you want?" Carla asked, not bothering to be polite.

"Now, Mrs. ..." Carla didn't provide her name. "Well, I know you're old man Santorelli's kid. And you," he pointed at Danny. "You're one too. And you must be the crown prince's new lady," this directed at Sandra. Fear registered on her face.

"What's your point?" Carla demanded.

"Give your old man a message from me," the man continued, unfazed by Carla's abrupt manner. "The time has come to make a decision. I've run out of patience. His insurance just ran out. He knows where I am when he's ready to be reasonable. I'll expect a decision within two weeks. Understand?"

Carla nodded.

"Good," the man said, nodding his approval. "In fact, I'll be back next Friday just to see how things are progressing. We'll say good-day ladies." With a mocking salute he turned and left, followed closely by his silent companions. For a few moments, the girls stood frozen, their eyes watching the door as if they might return. Danny was the first to speak.

"What the hell do we do now?" It was a question foremost in all their minds.

Michael was furious when Sandra told him what had happened. He pulled her close against him. She sank into his solid strength with gratitude.

"He didn't hurt you, did he?" he examined her closely, looking for evidence.

"No, I'm okay," Sandra assured him, caressing his worried face. "We're all okay. Just a little scared. They were so menacing. It was like something out of a late night gangster movie on TV. I couldn't believe it was happening." She looked at him earnestly. "Michael, they mean business. You have to be careful. I'm afraid of what they might do."

Michael smiled, trying to reassure her. "Don't worry, sweetheart. These guys are mostly talk. It's all scare tactics. We'll figure something out. One thing's for sure, though. They won't get the store! Dad worked all his life to build the business. Now it's mine, and I intend to keep it to pass on to my children."

Sandra wasn't so sure about Michael's assertion that the men were using scare tactics only. She read the newspapers. She wasn't so naive as to think the terrible things that graced the headlines every day wouldn't happen to them. In fact, in her mind, it was a real possibility.

Sleep that night for Sandra was fitful and filled with images of violence. She woke often, vague ideas forming in her mind. By morning's light, she was clear about what she needed to do. It was foolhardy, certainly. But the Santorelli's had become very important to her. If in some small way she could help them get out from under this spectre of doom, she would do it. Michael couldn't know, of course, since he would certainly put a stop to her plan. The only one she could turn to for help was Danny. Danny might not approve, but she had the spirit of adventure and the fierce family protectiveness that would bring her on board. Sandra waited until they were alone at the breakfast table to broach the subject.

"Danny," she began, not looking up from her grapefruit. "Yesterday's episode at the store got me to thinking."

"It got me thinking too," Danny commented. "But I'm too much of a lady to repeat what I think!"

"If the police had evidence that these guys were up to no good," Sandra continued with building enthusiasm, "they probably wouldn't hesitate to arrest them, right?"

"Sure." Danny looked puzzled. "But these guys have walked a fine line for years. They're just too crafty to trip up. They always manage to smell like a rose, even though they're more like compost."

"What if someone were to find such evidence and bring it to the police?" Sandra ventured. "You know, give the cops a helping hand."

Suspicion grew on Danny's face. "Just what are you suggesting?"

"What if you and I follow these guys and find out where their headquarters are?" She held up a hand to halt Danny's protest. "We'd be careful, certainly. They'd never know we were there. Then, one night, when they're gone, we go in and look around. I'll bet there are papers or computer files or something that would show what these guys are up to."

"Are you out of your mind?" Danny cried. "Who are you? Nancy Drew? These guys aren't TV crooks. They're the real thing! They play nasty and they play for keeps!"

"I realize that," Sandra said, remaining calm. "But they wouldn't even know we were there. We'd go in late at night and we'd be out probably within the hour. It's the only thing I can think of that might help Michael and your dad."

This seemed to sway Danny slightly. But the argument wasn't over.

"It's breaking and entering, you know. It's against the law. If we got caught, we could end up in jail."

"But we won't get caught," Sandra reasoned. "We'll take a camera. We'll wear gloves. We'll send what we find anonymously to the police. Why, it could all be over like that!" She snapped her fingers to illustrate her point.

"I suppose it could work." Danny began to waver. "What do we tell my folks?"

"Nothing," Sandra said emphatically. "No one can know we're doing this. We'll sneak out after everyone's asleep. We'll be back long before anyone is up. What they don't know, they can't let slip. If the police come around to question them, then they can honestly say they don't know a thing. As for you and me, well...I'll admit, I'm a lousy liar. I never could fool my parents for a second. But in this case, I think that any nervousness could rightly be put down to being scared."

"You realize that if we do get caught, my career as a lawyer, not to mention yours as a detective, will be down the tubes," Danny said.

"It's a risk we have to take. Our future means nothing if your family loses their business."

"Okay," Danny said after a thoughtful pause. "I'm in. But I think you're a complete nut case. I just want that on the record."

"Duly noted. Now here's the plan..."

The girls agreed that since Sandra and Danny had to be back at school for Monday classes, they'd put their plan in action the following weekend. They would travel up to the city after their last classes on Thursday, spend Friday at the store, and if the men did show up as they had promised, Sandra and Danny would find an excuse to follow them when they left.

The week was tortuously long for the girls. Neither would have been able to recount the content of a single lecture they had attended. Nor could they seem to make headway on assignments or reading. They sat long into each night going over and over their plan of attack, looking for traps or missing angles. Both were exhausted by Thursday. Things weren't made easier by Sandra's chance meeting with her cousin, Vicky.

Sandra was just coming back to her dorm from a lecture, when she heard herself being hailed. Stopping, she watched her cousin jog over to her.

"You were certainly deep in thought," Vicky said. "It took me three yells before I caught your attention."

"Sorry," Sandra said, feeling rather resentful at the intrusion. "I've got a lot on my mind."

"So I hear," Vicky said in teasing tones. Sandra looked at her sharply.

"What do you mean?"

"It seems Aunt Sylvia called mother and ranted on and on about the new love in your life. Is it true? Have you and Michael sorted things out?"

Sandra was suddenly on guard. What was Vicky after? Then she relaxed, remembering their revealing conversation after the Randy fiasco. She studied Vicky's face and saw only genuine interest there.

"Yep," she quipped. "It seems I have a boyfriend."

“I'm SO glad," Vicky said, lacing her arm through Sandra's and hugging her close. "Tell me all about him."

Sandra went on guard again. She and Danny were leaving that night. And Sandra wasn't sure she would be able to keep up this act with her cousin much longer. She felt pulled tight as a drum skin. Any more pressure and she'd split in two.

"Look, can we make it another time?" Sandra tried to sound casual. "I'm headed to the city tonight and have a lot to do yet."

Vicky's eyes twinkled. "Say no more, cuz. Off to see your fella, I'll bet."

"You guessed it." Sandra's chuckle didn't sound entirely convincing in her own ears.

"Call me when you get back to campus and we'll have lunch, okay?" Vicky said, relinquishing her hold on Sandra's arm. "I want to hear all about the great romance. Don't worry. Your mom will come around." With that and a jaunty wave she left Sandra.

If you only knew the half of it, Sandra thought.

Sandra and Danny rode in silence all the way to the city. Both were deep in thought, dealing with their separate anxieties.

Michael was waiting for them at the depot, a happy grin lighting his face at the sight of Sandra. He rushed over to her, sweeping her into a bear hug.

"Oh, I've missed you," he said, releasing her enough to kiss her soundly.

"I've missed you too," Sandra said, her voice lacking in enthusiasm.

Michael examined her closely. "Are you all right?" he asked, concern etched on his brow.

"Sure," Sandra said, not altogether convincingly. "It's just been a brutal week." That certainly was the truth.

"Well, then, let's get you girls home so you can relax," Michael said, picking up their bags. The girls exchanged a quick glance before following Michael to the car.

The evening was difficult. Sandra avoided being alone with Michael, sure that if he studied her eyes he would read what she'd planned. She was aware that he was looking at her throughout the evening, his face showing ample concern. She sensed him getting quieter as the hours ticked by and a lump sat solidly in her chest as guilt washed over her. She kept reminding herself that she was doing this for him, to help him.

Chapter Twelve

"When do you think they'll get here?" Danny said, going over to the store's entrance to check the street for the hundredth time that day. "I'm getting ulcers just waiting around."

"I feel the same way," Sandra said. The two girls were alone in the shop. One of Carla's kids had come down with measles, so she stayed home to look after him. Michael was out meeting with suppliers, but was due at any moment.

"I can't keep up the pretense too much longer," Sandra said. "I know Michael suspects something. He was so quiet this morning at breakfast. And he didn't even kiss me good morning."

"Yeah," Danny said. "I noticed big brother was a tad quiet. He's always gotten like that when something has bothered him."

"I hate deceiving him like this. I feel like such a liar."

"You haven't lied," Danny said, checking the street yet again. "You just haven't told him everything."

"It's the same thing in my books," Sandra said wryly. "I don't like keeping secrets."

"Well, keep them a while longer," Danny said, running to the back of the counter. "Here comes Michael!"

Michael had a foul look on his face as he entered the store. He was obviously in a bad temper, something Sandra had never seen before.

"How come so glum, chum?" Danny quipped. Michael ignored his younger sister.

"Yikes!" she said in mock terror. "It looks like someone stole your prize aggie."

"Enough already, Danny," Michael said in clipped tones. "I'm in no mood."

"What's up?" Danny said.

Michael slammed his fist on the counter.

"I just went to see Santos. He's been dad's main supplier of spiced meats since dad opened the store. I tried to convince him that we needed him back, that I was taking over, that he owed our family some loyalty. He wouldn't even listen. He just kept saying he understood but his hands were tied, whatever the hell that means! It was the same all day. 'Nice to see you Mike, but I can't help you.' So, sis, that's what's up!"

Sandra and Danny thought it best not to comment further. Michael stomped his way to the back room and slammed the door.

"It's my fault," Sandra said into the silence that followed.

"No it's not," Danny responded. "You heard Michael. It's business related. It has nothing to do with the two of you."

“I'm not so sure," Sandra said. "I don't think he'd be this upset if he didn't suspect I was up to something. I'd better talk to him." She made her way to the back room door.

"Careful, roomie," Danny said. "Remember our agreement."

"I know," Sandra said. "I'll think of something."

Sandra entered the back room to find Michael savagely attacking a loin of pork with a cleaver.

"You look like you mean business," Sandra said, trying to bring some levity into the room.

"It helps me vent my frustration," Michael said grimly. "The trouble is, we may have to have a special sale on pork chops. I'm pretty frustrated."

Sandra smiled. Even angry, he could make a joke. "What's bothering you?" she said quietly.

"You heard me in there," he answered hotly. "It's been a long day."

"Somehow I don't think that's what's at the heart of your mood," Sandra said, again in quiet, soothing tones.

The cleaver came down one final time and stuck in the haunch. Michael turned to her, hands on his hips, eyes downcast as if gathering his thoughts.

He then fixed his eyes on her face.

"You're right. It's not all that's on my mind. Ever since I picked you girls up last night, I feel like you've been holding back. You're not the same girl who left here last Sunday."

"What do you mean?" Sandra's heart pounded wildly in her chest. She was sure Michael could hear it.

"You're hiding something from me, and I think I've figured out what it is."

"What?" Sandra said, her voice barely a whisper.

"You're having second thoughts about us, aren't you?" he said bitterly. "In fact, I think you're hankering after that guy Randy again. You got back to school and there he was. You've probably seen each other all week."

"Oh, no, Michael," Sandra said. It was worse than she thought. "It's not that at all."

"So there is something!" Michael said. Sandra's heart was breaking at the accusatory look on his face. "And I'm pretty sure I'm right. Go ahead, tell me something different."

"You're wrong," Sandra said, grasping to find the right words. "It's nothing like that . I can't tell you right now, but if you'll just trust me--"

"Trust you!!" Michael exploded. "How can I trust you if you won't tell me what it is you're keeping from me?"

"I'm asking you to just try and trust me for a little while," Sandra said. "Is that so hard after what we've come to mean to each other?"

"That's what is so hard," Michael said, gritting his teeth. "I thought we were on to something really good. But two people who can't be honest with each other, shouldn't be together. I found that out a long time ago and I'm not going through that again." With those words, he strode past Sandra and out the door.

"Michael! Wait!" Sandra pleaded but it was too late. Michael was gone from the store. Tears coursed down Sandra's face. She was in shock. The last few minutes couldn't have happened. Michael couldn't have looked at her with such contempt. He couldn't have just told her it was over between them. Could he?

"Whew, Sandy!" Danny said, her face a picture of pity. "Looks like it didn't go well. Are you okay?"

"It was awful, Danny. He's furious with me. He thinks I'm after Randy again. I didn't know what to say. I was stunned. I said it wasn't true, but he didn't believe me. What am I going to do? I love him Danny." She started to sob.

"Oh, Sandy, it's all right. He never stays mad long. He'll feel like such a jerk when he calms down. You'll see. And if you want, just go and tell him all about your harebrained scheme and call it off. You two can make up. We can stay home tonight. And things will get sorted out another way."

"No," Sandra said with a sniff and an emphatic shake of her head. "We've come too far now. I want to see this through. I want to show him that I did it for him, because I love him and I love his family."

"You're pretty great, you know?" Danny gave her friend a quick hug. "Well, we better get cleaned up and be on our toes. Our visitors should be here any time now."

A few minutes later, the three businessmen arrived as they had promised. Thankfully, it was toward the end of the day and there were no customers around.

"So ladies," one of them said, broadcasting an insincere smile, "I see you're on your own today. Where's Santorelli junior?"

"He's out on business," Danny said, every muscle in her body conveying her hostility. "He won't be back today. But he said to tell you that Dad is still not well and that he'd have an answer for you by next week."

The man eyed the two girls shrewdly, seeming to come to some sort of conclusion in his mind.

"Fine," he said softly. "I'll accept that for now. I won't bother you ladies any further. But I certainly hope that you are being completely truthful. I would be most...distressed if I felt you were not being so." On that veiled threat, he and his colleagues left the store.

The girls sprang into action.

"Quick, put up the closed sign, while I close the till," Sandra barked. "Within moments, they were locking up the store and in hot pursuit of the three men. Danny had borrowed her parent's car with some trumped up story of a shopping spree the two girls had planned. They could see the men getting into an expensive sedan at the end of the block. Making sure they weren't spotted, the girls jumped into the car.

"Make sure they don't see you following," Sandra ordered. "But don't lose them in the traffic."

"What do I look like? Mario-hotshot-Andretti?" Danny said sarcastically. "I'll do what I can do! Why did I let myself get talked into this crazy business?" Muttering under her breath as she weaved in and out of traffic, she didn't notice Sandra's tense stillness.

Sandra's mind was spinning. Reality had set in as they began their pursuit and she was having second thoughts. What if they got caught? No one would know where they were. Anything could happen to a pair of stupid girls who went out chasing after gangsters. Was she out of her mind? It was bad enough to do this to herself, but to involve Danny! And to jeopardize her relationship with as wonderful a man as Michael! Was she really that stupid?

"Danny stop!" she yelled.

"What the hell are you saying?" Danny yelled back, continuing her pursuit of the men.

"I've changed my mind," Sandra said. "I can't do this. I don't know what I was thinking. I must have a fat head on top of this fat body! I'm not some kind of super sleuth. I don't have the first idea what I'm doing. Take me now and lock me in a loony bin!"

"Now you get an attack of sensible?" Danny shouted, swearing as she narrowly missed hitting a pedestrian. "You couldn't have decided this back at the store!"

"Look, I'm sorry!" Sandra said, gripping the dashboard with white knuckles. "It just seemed like the right...Look out!!" Brakes squealed as a little sports car cut in front of theirs.

"Can you still see them?" Sandra asked, craning to see around the obstructing car.

"I thought you were having second thoughts," Danny said, looking for an opportunity to pass.

"Well, if you really think..." Sandra said, glancing anxiously at her friend.

"Damn! Where did they go?" Danny said.

"What do you mean?" Sandra said with alarm.

"I think I lost them," Danny said, hitting her palm against the steering wheel in frustration.

"Oh no!" Sandra wailed. Then she caught sight of the vehicle. "Wait, there they are! Two cars ahead, in the right lane. Quick! Move over!!" With reckless daring and muttered apologies to the other motorists, Danny changed lanes.

"Oh my God!" Sandra said, falling back into her seat.

"You can say that again," Danny said.

"I don't think my heart can take too much more of this," Sandra said. "Maybe we should just head back."

"Too late," Danny said, slowing the car. "It looks like we've arrived at our destination."

"What?" Sure enough, Sandra saw the sedan pull to the curb two cars ahead and stop. Danny turned into an alley and parked. The two girls looked back and watched as the men emerged from the car and went into a nondescript building halfway along the block.

They were in a more industrial area of the city; an area of old run-down warehouses and dilapidated store fronts. Prosperity had long ago abandoned this street. Not much life stirred along the sidewalks. It was the perfect spot for those wanting to do business anonymously.

After ensuring that there was no one around, Danny backed the car onto the street and slowly cruised by the building. Sandra noted the number above the door and the names of the cross streets at the corner. One more slow pass around the block gave her a chance to check out possible alternate entrances, perhaps a side door or window. Satisfied, she gave the thumbs-up to Danny who gunned the engine and headed home.

Neither girl could breathe evenly for several blocks.

"I've never been so scared in my entire life," Danny said.

"You and me both," Sandra said. "I kept expecting them to come out of the building and catch us gawking at them."

"Can you imagine the look on their faces if they had?" Danny said, starting to giggle.

"Danny, I think we're both nuts," Sandra said as she collapsed into giggles.

"You could be right," Danny said through her laughter, "but I don't care."

They were still giddy when they got back to the Santorelli's. Dinner was underway, and surprise was expressed at their appearance. They both ate with hearty appetites, and Sandra hoped that Mr. and Mrs. Santorelli weren't conscious of the brooding intensity Michael was exhibiting. After dinner, it was Danny who took her brother to task.

"You know, Sandra was pretty upset this afternoon."

"Yeah, we had a fight," Michael said sourly.

"It sounds like you did most of the fighting to me," Danny said.

"Yeah, well I was pretty steamed."

"You're wrong about Sandra, you know. She's not interested in Randy. The only guy she's interested in is you. And if you had half a brain in your head, you'd see she's in love with you."

"Then why is she hiding things from me?"

"Would it hurt you so much to just wait until she's ready to tell you. She will, you know. When the time is right, you'll know everything. You know, trust is pretty important in a relationship."

"I know. That's my point exactly!" Michael said.

"Well, she trusted you to believe in her love," Danny said pointedly. "You let her down. I hate to say it, Mikey, but you're acting like a dope. Sandra is the best thing that's ever happened to you. Don't let her get away." She left Michael to contemplate her words for a while. In the meantime, she had other fish to fry. She found Sandra in the bedroom they shared, pulling on an outfit that consisted of black pants, long black t-shirt, a black pullover sweater and a zippered quilted vest in a deep blue plaid.

"You better find some dark clothes to wear too," Sandra instructed. "We want to blend into the shadows."

"What is this, a B-movie? Don't you think you're carrying this a little too far? After all, you were ready to quit this afternoon. Now we're dressing like commandoes."

"I got to thinking..."

"I was afraid of that," Danny groaned.

"...and I decided that I have to see this through," Sandra said. "I've been so wimpy all my life! For once, I'm going to see something through."

"Now you decide to be Wonderwoman?" Danny cried. "Couldn't you have started with something a little simpler? Say, knitting a scarf?"

Sandra smiled. "Are you with me or not?" she said.

"I'm with you. I'm with you." Danny sighed. "Don't get your shorts in a knot."

The girls were dressed and ready well ahead of their midnight starting time. They sat on the end of Danny's bed, contemplating what they were about to do.

"This is your last chance, roomie," Danny said solemnly. "You can still call this off and we can go to bed."

"We're past the point of no return now," Sandra said, taking Danny's hand in hers. "I'm so glad you're my friend, Danny. It was a lucky star that led me to you."

"Aw, cut it out," Danny said, obviously pleased. "I'm lucky too. You're the best friend I've ever had. And it's even better that you and Michael are in love. It almost makes us sisters."

A shadow crossed Sandra's face.

"I'm not sure Michael wants anything to do with me anymore." Sandra's eyes misted over.

"Hey," Danny said, patting Sandra's hand. "Don't give up on the big lug yet. I have a feeling that things will be different tomorrow."

"I hope you're right." Sandra sighed, thinking that tomorrow was a long way off.

Chapter Thirteen

dra and Danny waited until the Santorelli household was quiet. One heart-stopping moment came when Sandra bumped a table in the dark, but when no one stirred, the girls sighed in relief and proceeded with their escapade. Other than that, it was easy to slip quietly down the stairs and out into the peaceful night. The sky was clear, the air crisp and clean. Even the streetlights couldn't outshine the display of glittering stars. Sandra paused for a moment to drink in the quiet beauty.

The next tricky moment came when they got in the car. There's no silent way to start an automobile. Danny had parked on the street rather than in the driveway that afternoon, but on the quiet residential road, the engine would still be loud at that hour. For panicked moments after the car was started, the girls looked up at the windows of the Santorelli house, but again, nothing stirred, no lights came on. Satisfied that they had made a clean getaway, they drove off.

They easily found the street of ramshackle buildings again. At night it took on an isolated, threatening feel. Neither girl felt very comfortable leaving the relative safety of the car, but leave it they did, after parking it out of sight in the same alley they'd sat in that afternoon.

They hunkered from shadow to shadow until they were finally able to squat at the side of their target building. They paused a moment to catch their breath and formulate a plan for entering the premises unnoticed. Obviously, the front door was out of the question. It was probably locked anyway. Keeping their backs to the brick, the girls did a tour around the side and back of the structure.

It was a squat, square brick two-story edifice. Built as a warehouse, probably around the First World War, it was utilitarian rather than aesthetic in appearance. One door allowed access from the street. Another steel door at the rear of the building satisfied fire regulations. True to the girls' assumptions, the back door was securely locked, workable only from the inside. Any windows on the ground level, and they were few, were heavily barred. The windows of the upper level weren't barred, but there was no way to access them. The girls thought that they were stymied, when they spotted a small window directly above the big dumpster parked against the back wall.

"Great," Sandra whispered. "Now you climb up, go through the window, and then open the back door to let me in."

"Excuse me?" Danny whispered. "Do I look like one of the Flying Walenda's? Why me?"

"Look," Sandra said impatiently, "for one thing, you're way more agile than me. Look at me. I'm hardly an athlete. Secondly, if you notice, that window is very small. It would take an act of God to get this chest and backside through that little opening. Now, instead of arguing, will you just get up there so we can get on with this?"

With a final snort of disgust, Danny obeyed.

Even with Danny's natural dexterity, it took her several moments to negotiate pushing the window open and pulling herself through. Sandra's heart was in her throat as she watched her friend disappear into the black hole. Another several heart-stopping moments passed before Sandra heard the scrape of steel against steel and saw the door open.

"What took you so long?" Sandra whispered hoarsely as she slipped into the pitch-black interior.

"In case you haven't noticed," Danny said sarcastically. "It's darker than a witch's boot in here. I damn near killed myself on the stairs as it is. That window is parked directly at the head of the stairs, and you neglected to send one of the flashlights in with me."

"Oh," Sandra said guiltily. "Sorry." She handed Danny a flashlight. The girls were relieved to break the heavy darkness with the feeble light. But now the lights cast eerie shadows around them. That, and the hollow echo of their footsteps, raised goosebumps on their skin and made their hearts sit somewhere in the vicinity of their throats.

"What are we looking for," Danny said.

"I'm not sure," Sandra replied. "Anything that proves that what these guys are doing is illegal. You know, files that show what they're up to. Bank records. Illegal contraband. I don't know."

"We're certainly well prepared," Danny said sarcastically.

"Look. Be quiet and start searching."

Slowly they made their way through the ground floor area. It was basically one big open space. Nondescript boxes were stacked here and there. A small front office yielded invoices on a cluttered desk, a telephone, and nothing more.

The upstairs area was more interesting. Work had been done to make a comfortable workspace for its occupants. It had been sectioned into several small rooms, with many of the rooms remaining empty or used for storing office supplies and records. These proved of little interest to the girls. Three of the other rooms warranted closer scrutiny.

The first of the three rooms was an office, probably for a secretary or receptionist. It was simple in decor consisting of a desk, computer, small loveseat and coffee table, two tall filing cabinets, and the assorted flotsam and jetsam of paper and personal effects that winds up in someone's office.

A perusal of the desk drawers and filing cabinets didn't net anything of interest to the girls. They came to understand that the warehouse was indeed a functioning, legitimate business for importing giftware from overseas. Catalogs they turned up in one file drawer showed pictures of glassware, collectibles and artwork that could be found in any tourist shop and gift store in the city.

The second room appeared to be a combination lunchroom/workroom. A photocopier and a shredder shared space with a refrigerator, three round tables and chairs, a small kitchenette with a hotplate and microwave and a vending machine filled with the ubiquitous junk food. A door at one end of the room proved to lead to a tiny restroom. Nothing here proved of interest to either girl.

A door led directly into the third room. It was this room that proved to be the most intriguing.

This office definitely belonged to someone important. Heavy, textured linen paper covered the walls. A thick Turkish carpet cushioned the feet encouraging those stepping on it to take off their shoes and walk barefoot. One entire end of the large room was taken up by a solid oak executive desk, its top big enough to serve as a banquet table for eight. A large, swivel armchair upholstered in rich burgundy leather sat behind the desk. Two tapestry covered wing chairs sat in front. An oak bookcase and wall unit filled another wall adjacent to the desk area. Flanking the desk's other side was a small oak bar area, its glass shelves holding a stunning variety of expensive liquor. Two couches formed a cozy conversation area in the center of the room, a glass-topped coffee table in between. This office had it's own small copier. A safe sat in clunky incongruence to the tastefulness of the rest of the decor, a giant Boston fern being used in a poor attempt to camouflage its ugly utilitarianism.

The girls' attention, however, was drawn to the large filing cabinet standing just inside the door of the office, and the deep locked bottom drawer of the desk.

"Well, this is it," Sandra said, keeping her voice low. "If we're going to find anything, it will be in here."

"Again, what is it we're looking for?" Danny asked, her body language betraying her nervousness and fear.

"Look for anything that doesn't have to do with the import business. Records of shady deals, drug running, illegal arms deals," she said testily. "Look, I don't know! Look for anything that mentions your neighborhood, or Santorelli Meats, or...just look!!"

Sandra went to the desk, the locked drawer promising secrets. Tugging at the drawer certainly didn't accomplish much. An examination of the other drawers in the desk failed to yield a key. She did, however, turn up a paper with numbers that she was certain would prove to be the combination of the little safe. This went into her pocket for later.

She found a metal nail file in the shallow center drawer and decided to try and jimmy the lock. At first she was worried about the noise it was making, but as she felt the lock beginning to give, she pushed that worry aside and concentrated on forcing the drawer open. Precious minutes ticked by as she put all her effort into keeping her hands steady and her senses aware of any subtle changes. Then she heard it. A tiny click and as she pulled on the handle of the drawer, it came open. She was exhilarated with her success, but it was short-lived.

The drawer contained ledgers, maybe seven or eight, large and hardcovered. The top few related obviously to the import business, records of deals made and merchandise bought and sold. The next two were obviously to do with employees, their wages and benefits. Pretty ordinary stuff for any business. The seventh ledger was a puzzle. It was filled with pages and pages of what appeared to be a code of some sort; letters and numbers that made no sense to Sandra.

"Hey," she whispered across the room to Danny who was methodically going through the filing cabinet drawers. "Look what I found."

Danny also found it to be an unfathomable mishmash.

"That's gotta be what we're looking for," she said as if she had been a breaking and entering artist all her life. "But it's no good without the key to break the code."

"I agree," Sandra said. "I bet it's in the safe. Let's give it a try." She replaced the other books back in the drawer, keeping hold of the cryptic one for now. Only close perusal of the drawer would reveal her tampering, but unfortunately there was no way to lock the drawer again.

"Hopefully he'll think he forgot to lock it," she said nervously.

It took three tries before Sandra's hands were steady enough to get the combination on the safe to work. At last, the door swung free and she and Danny began to survey the contents. Some bundles of money, bankbooks, contracts, the usual. It looked like they might be out of luck.

They had just taken out a set of two journals held together by an elastic band, when they heard the noise. It was definitely the clang of the front door closing. Panic welled within them as they realized they were not alone in the building anymore.

With incredible speed, they returned things to the safe and closed the door. They could hear footsteps coming up the stairs and now a low murmur of voices. There was more than one person. Sandra and Danny clung to each other, paralyzed for the moment, unsure of what to do. Then Sandra grabbed Danny's arm and pulled her along. They moved swiftly and silently from the big office into the lunchroom and from there into the little restroom. Closing the door as quietly as possible, the two girls turned off their flashlights and huddled together in the pitch black of the airless room.

They hardly dared breathe for long minutes until they were sure that their presence had not been detected and they were safe for the moment.

Later, Sandra would not be able to explain what demon drove her to leave the sanctuary of their hiding place. She only knew that she needed to hear what was going on in that office.

Stealthily, she eased open the restroom door and peered through the crack to survey the room. The coast was clear. With infinite care, she moved on cat-like feet to the doorway. Thankfully the door hadn't closed when they'd come through. She was able to hear the voices clearly.

"We need to start speeding up the process," said one voice. "Time is running out. The investors are getting skittish."

"Yeah, well if we'd done it my way from the start..." snarled a second voice.

"We would not have gotten this far," said a third. "Strong-arm tactics are the old way. It's not the forties anymore. We're businessmen. We use more refined techniques."

"Yeah, bribery, forgery, payoffs," said the second voice. There were chuckles as his joke was appreciated.

"We need to get control of the remaining businesses on that block within the next month. Construction has to start by spring or we'll lose our investment," voice one said.

"So what do we do?" voice number three said. "Some of those store-owners are stubborn cusses. Just look at that Santorelli guy." Sandra's ears perked up at this. "First the old man put us off. Now we got his hardheaded kid to deal with. I don't think we'll be able to force him out with the high insurance premiums and I sure as hell don't think he'll consider selling."

"Then, gentlemen," said a fourth voice that Sandra immediately identified as their visitor from the store. "We shall just have to up the stakes in the game. Santorelli has a big family. That's where he's vulnerable. We need to figure out a way to use that."

"Why don't we just burn 'em out, boss?" voice number two said. Sandra shuddered at the thought.

"Because, you moron," voice number four replied tightly, "it's too easy to prove arson and too easy to point the finger at us. No, he has to want to move. He has to offer. We just have to find the right motivation. Make me a drink, will you Joe?" Sandra could hear footsteps, then the chink of glass on glass. She held her breath as she heard a drawer slide open.

"Who left this drawer unlocked?" voice number four said angrily.

"You were the last one in here, boss," voice number one responded. This must have been Joe because Sandra could hear the glass being set on the desk.

"Well, I know I locked it," voice number four said. "Let me check the books. What the hell! One of the books is gone! Did any of you take the land deal ledger out of here?" A negative response. "Someone's been into the desk. Look, if you look along the edge of the drawer, it's been jimmied. All right everybody! We have an intruder! Spread out and search the place!"

Sandra could hear feet scurrying to obey. Worse yet, she was sure she heard the click of guns being readied. Her heart pounding, her blood roaring in her ears, she dove across the room and into the little restroom, slamming into Danny as she did so. Danny was about to utter a protest, but Sandra clapped her hand over her friend's mouth. Something in her shaking body must have conveyed to Danny the urgency of immediate quiet. The girls stood frozen as they listened to the sound of feet stomping up and down the stairs and throughout the building. Doors slammed, commands were called to and fro. No corner was left unchecked. It was only a matter of moments before they checked the restroom and found the girls. As if sensing the impending peril, the girls embraced trying to draw strength from each other.

Light spilled under the restroom door, indicating that the light in the lunchroom was now on. Footsteps marched into the other office, and quickly marched back, coming closer and closer to their hiding place.

And then it happened. The door was wrenched open and the two girls stood facing the barrel of a revolver.

"Step outta there, you two," the man snarled. His was an unknown face, a face out of a nightmare. "Hey boss, get in here! I found 'em!" Footsteps could be heard running towards them. And then they were there. The businessman from the store and his lackeys.

"Well look who we have here," he said in surprised recognition. "What an unexpected pleasure ladies. To what do I owe the honor of your visit to my little office?"

"Let us go," Danny said from between clenched teeth.

The man fixed her with a hard look. "You seem to forget that it is you trespassing on my property. You have no say in what I do next."

"We just looked around," Sandra said, attempting a bluff. "It was stupid, but we didn't do any harm."

"On the contrary," he said, anger tingeing his words. "You forced open the drawer of my desk. My desk! And one of my ledgers appears to be missing. You return it to me now, please." He held out his hand.

Slowly, Sandra disengaged herself from Danny. Turning, she stooped to pick up the ledger, her movements slow and deliberate. As she stood up, her back still to the men, she shot a silent appeal to Danny, a look that said, Follow my lead. She turned and handed the book to the boss.

"Good girl," he said sarcastically. "That was a smart decision, unlike the one that brought you here in the first place. But, you've done me a favor. I was just telling my colleagues here that I needed to find a stronger persuasion to use with your father and brother to convince them to accept my business proposition. You've saved me the trouble of setting something up. Let us adjourn to my office and we'll settle all the details."

As two of the thugs began to escort the girls toward the office door, the girls flew into action.

Wrenching her arm free from her captor, Sandra also yanked Danny free and propelling her toward the outer door of the lunchroom, yelled, "Run!!" Without hesitation, both girls scrambled forward.

Danny, small and wiry, was able to dart clear of grasping hands and reach freedom with ease. Sandra, heavier and betrayed by gravity, almost reached her goal, before feeling meaty hands grab her arms and bring her to a halt.

"Run, Danny, run!" she screamed as she saw Danny pause in the doorway, clearly wanting to save her friend. "Get help!!" These final words spurred Danny on. She disappeared into the shadows. Sandra could hear her feet pummelling down the stairs.

A wild fury swept over her. She'd be damned if she went down without a fight. She screamed. She struggled. Both of the big men had to hang on tightly as this sudden Amazon tigress threatened to break free of their grip. As the third thug attempted to chase after Danny, Sandra managed to stick out a sneakered foot and trip him. The man fell like stone, his gun flying off into the darkness of the hallway. Sandra was satisfied by the grunt of pain as the big man hit the floor.

A sudden calm came over her. She had helped Danny reach safety. She stopped struggling, and with muttered curses, the two guards dragged her into the office.

Their boss stood in the centre of the room, his face a mask of fury.

"You insist on being a problem for me," he said through clenched teeth. The man she had tripped came into the room rubbing his knee and grimacing with pain.

"Joe, you idiot," the boss barked. "Go after the other one. She can't have gone far. Don't let her get off the premises. Shoot her if you have to!"

"No!!" Sandra shouted.

"You have only yourself to blame," the man said. "Now sit down and shut-up! I have to think."

The two men practically hurled Sandra into one of the wing chairs by the desk. She rubbed her arms where they had gripped her so tightly as she struggled. She could feel the soreness of the flesh. No doubt she'd have bruises to show for her careless bravery.

As her breathing slowed, she became aware of just how much jeopardy she was in. Bruises were the least of her worries! She was alone with a dangerous gangster and his men. She had no weapon, no defense. No one except Danny knew where she was and Danny was in danger of capture any second. Strangely, the foremost thought in her mind was how Michael would be angry at her for putting herself in this position. And she felt sad at the thought.

"Where's Joe?" the boss said. "He should be back by now."

"Want I should go and check, boss?" one of the guards asked.

"No," the boss snapped. "I don't need to lose two of you." He looked skyward and roared, "I'm surrounded by cretins!"

"In case Joe didn't catch the other one, boss," the thug said, "maybe we should clear outta here. We could go over to the condo until you figure out what you want to do."

The leader thought about this for a moment and then smiled.

"That's a good idea," he said. "Perhaps I misjudged you earlier. Bring the girl. Eddie, you'll drive."

Sandra was dragged to her feet unceremoniously. Her escort made it clear through his scowl and iron grip that he would brook no resistance on her part. The businessman took a moment to pick up the cryptic ledger and to withdraw money and the elastic bound journals from the safe. Satisfied that no evidence of misdeed remained in the office, he led the way to the stairs and then toward the rear door of the warehouse.

Chapter Fourteen

The night air was frosty and Sandra could see her breath as she was led reluctantly toward the dark sedan. Impending winter was in the air. She should have been sleeping peacefully back at the Santorelli's, she thought. She should have been dreaming about Michael and waking to tell him she loved him. But instead, she was imprisoned in this nightmare of her own making, heading to unknown and terrifying danger. There seemed no hope.

Struggling was doing her little good. Her arms ached where the thug held her in a vise-like grip. Her throat was dry with terror and screaming would only have succeeded in bringing unknown consequences upon her. In her mind, her situation was hopeless. All she could think about was, where was Danny? And how would Michael handle all this?

Her captor was just opening the rear door of the car, when salvation came out of the night with a startling and unexpected force.

Lights snapped on, freezing Sandra and the men in their tracks at the same moment that an amplified voice barked the order,

"Police! Put down your weapons and surrender peacefully!"

Stunned Sandra tried to see past the white glare, trying to catch a glimpse of her saviors. Euphoria was quickly replaced by panic, as she felt an arm snake around her neck. In her ear, the voice of the boss whispered harshly.

"Don't move! Don't even twitch!" She felt the jab of steel in her back. "Stay back, or I'll shoot her!"

"Sandra!" All the blood drained from her face as she recognized Michael's beloved voice, filled with anguish.

"Michael!" She screamed back. He was there! By some miracle, he was there!

"Well, well, Santorelli," the boss chuckled. "I was just talking about you earlier. Your ears must have been burning. Call off the dogs, or your girlfriend will cease to breathe."

That final threat broke through the fear that had shrouded Sandra from the moment she had failed to escape with Danny. Her mind functioned with sudden clarity. She had everything to live for just waiting for her beyond the shadows. She'd be damned if some petty crook would take it all from her now. With one desperate move that surprised even her, she jabbed her elbow into her assailant's midriff, thereby loosening his grip on her neck, at the same time throwing herself down to the ground and rolling out of his way. As she hit the ground, she heard the unmistakable sound of gunfire. Terror washed over her. As she came to rest, she curled into a ball, covering her ears to shut out what seemed to be endless reports. An acrid stench assailed her nostrils. Fear clutched her throat. And then, just as suddenly as it had begun, it was over.

Sandra continued to lie on the ground, not trusting that she was free and safe now. Her breathing was ragged. Her heart threatened to burst from her chest. A whimper escaped her lips. She recoiled as two hands touched her and tried to turn her over.

"It's all right, sweetheart," she heard Michael's voice murmur close to her ear. "You're safe now. It's all right."

Opening her eyes, she looked into the troubled face of her boyfriend. He smiled and she took one long sobbing breath and threw herself into his arms. There was no greater sanctuary than his strong embrace. He murmured 'hush' as she rocked and sobbed into his shoulder. All the pent up fear and anxiety of the past few days was released in one great flood.

"Oh God, is she all right?" Sandra gasped as she heard Danny's voice coming from beside her.

"Danny?" Sandra began crying again, this time her arms wrapped around her best friend. "You're okay. I was so scared. You're okay."

"Hey, don't get my sweater all soggy!" Both girls laughed through their tears.

"How did you get help here so quickly?" Sandra asked.

"Well, it seems we had a tail tonight," Danny grinned at her brother. "Mikey had the cops here already. I kinda ran into their waiting arms."

"Michael?" Sandra was bemused by the turn of events.

Later, after she cried herself out, she was made aware of the sequence of events that had led to the moment of her rescue.

Apparently, she and Danny hadn't left the house unnoticed that night. Michael had been upset and unable to sleep. His sister's words kept going around his head, and he was feeling ten times a fool for ever doubting Sandra. He'd heard the thump of someone bumping into furniture and had heard the careful closing of the door. He watched from his darkened bedroom window as the girls stealthily got into the car. In moments, he was down the stairs and out to his own car. With their engine idling, the girls hadn't realized they had a personal chaperone for the night.

Michael was really puzzled when they had pulled into the alley in the darkened, unsavory street. He'd stopped just down the block and watched the girls sneak across the street and go to the back of the building. Keeping out of sight himself, he had arrived at the rear of the warehouse in time to see the door shut behind the girls. He retreated to his car to await their re-emergence and was stunned when the sedan pulled up in front of the building and he recognized the occupants of the car as they emerged under the streetlight. When they entered the building, Michael knew what he had to do.

Convincing the police that they should hasten down to the warehouse was no easy task. He knew he sounded like a lunatic as he told them that his sister and girlfriend had broken into the building, he didn't know why, and that they were in danger because the building belonged to gangsters and the gangsters were now there. He could hardly believe it himself! But piece-by-piece he told them about the businessman and his cronies, the veiled threats, the mysterious accidents around the store, the increasing pressure to sell or get out. And the police started to listen.

It soon became apparent that the police were not unfamiliar with the address of the warehouse, nor of similar activities by these men. They'd begun an investigation of the import company, suspecting drug smuggling. But so far, nothing concrete had materialized. These guys were good and they covered their tracks. It was enough to interest the police in coming to investigate at least.

Michael was highly agitated as he waited for the police to arrive. It had been close to an hour since the girls had gone into the building, and almost half an hour since the men had. He was certain that the girls were now in peril. He'd never felt so helpless in his life.

The arrival of the police coincided with Danny's frantic exit from the back of the building, followed in close order by the thug named Joe. At the sight of Joe's gun and Danny's obvious terror, the police were quick to move in and subdue the gangster. Danny fell into the arms of her frightened brother and poured out the whole story of her and Sandra's escapade to him and the police. Knowing that Sandra was still in the building, being held captive by dangerous criminals was almost more that Michael could bear. He attempted to run to the door of the warehouse, intent on finding a way in to rescue his love. But Danny restrained him with words of reason. He could put Sandra in serious jeopardy with hasty, careless actions. And in Danny's words, there'd already been enough of that this night.

The police called for reinforcements and the ensuing moments dragged unbearably. The plan appeared to be to wait until the gangsters made a concrete move, which of course they did. With Danny escaped, the police figured they couldn't afford to stay in the area for long. Michael was hard-pressed not to race across the parking lot and beat the hell out of every last one of the men, especially as he watched them man-handling Sandra to the car.

His terror increased when the boss grabbed Sandra around the neck and pointed a gun into her back. Michael couldn't even be sure he was breathing at that point.

The next moments happened in a kind of slow motion, like an action movie from the seventies where the violence played out on the screen in agonizing slowness. And then it was over.

At first, when Michael saw Sandra lying on the ground, he was sure she'd been shot in the confusion. Nothing felt so good as the relief at finding her unharmed. Taking her into his arms was the most gratifying moment of Michael's life. He swore to himself that he would never let her out of his grasp again.

Chapter Fifteen

Sandra's senses reeled as she surfaced from Michael's passionate embrace. In the three days following the fateful night, Michael seemed insatiable in his need to touch her, kiss her, and tell her he loved her. Not that Sandra was complaining, but she was so dizzy with the joy of it, she had trouble concentrating on anything else. And one thing she had to do was deal with the aftermath of Danny's and her actions.

The police were forgiving about the breaking and entering perpetrated by the girls, only because their actions allowed the airtight closure of a frustrating investigation. They had however, sat the girls down for a lengthy and humiliating lecture on the stupidity of their behavior. In addition, Carlo and Loretta Santorelli had been horrified at the danger the girls had placed themselves in. First they'd lectured and then horror of horrors, they'd made Sandra phone her own parents.

Harold and Sylvia arrived within hours of the call. Looking awkward and stiff as they sat in the Santorelli living room, they listened in frozen silence as Sandra and Michael related the night's events. Sandra watched guiltily as her mother burst into tears, and for the first time in her memory, Sandra's father lost his temper. He was somewhat mollified when Sandra promised that she would never again indulge in this kind of reckless behavior. In fact, Sandra had decided that the life of a detective was definitely not for her. She'd had a taste of the life and it was more than enough to satisfy her. She would complete her degree in psychology but would put her curiosity about human motives into another field of endeavor, like counseling.

The whole story was a goldmine for the press. 'Teenage Detectives Save the Day!' read one headline. They painted Sandra as some kind of modern day Nancy Drew with Danny as her faithful sidekick. 'What She Did For Love' was another unfortunate banner. There was a picture of her in Michael's arms just after the arrests. She didn't even remember the press being there! All in all, the media attention caused the Santorelli phone to ring off the hook. And within hours of the story breaking, Sandra and Danny were surrounded by the gang from school. It seemed they had become the talk of the campus.

"You guys are unreal!" Garth said, awe in his voice. "I mean, solving the case of the thefts at school was one thing..."

"What case!" Michael interjected.

"...but to take on organized crime!"

"I repeat," Michael said impatiently. "What case?"

"Sandy and Danny found out who was stealing stuff at school," Amber said, respect for the girls evident in her voice.

"Yeah, we're regular sleuths," Danny said sarcastically. "Now stop interrupting!"

"We didn't take on organized crime," Sandra said. "We followed some petty crooks and tried to get some dirt on them. That's all. We just wanted a way to get them out of the neighborhood. It was just coincidence that they came back to the warehouse. Another couple of minutes and we would have been out of there."

"Timing is everything," Rita said from her perch on Garth's knee.

"Well, we weren't planning on visiting with the guys, that's for sure," Danny said.

"Like I said, we weren't intent on taking anyone on," Sandra said. "We just wanted information."

"Then you haven't been reading your own press," Rita said unfolding a page from the newspaper and pointing at the front-page picture. It showed the boss businessman, his arm in a sling and his hands and ankles cuffed, being helped out of a police car.

"That's David Falcone," Rita said, the name hanging in the air with menace.

Sandra's eyes were wide. "Of the Falcone crime family?"

"The one and only," Rita said. "When you pick a fight, you pick a doozy! But don't worry."

"Worry?" Danny said, looking at Sandra's pale face.

"About retaliation and all that."

"Oh God!" Sandra groaned, leaning into Michael's strong shoulder. Wasn't the nightmare over with yet?

"Seriously," Rita continued. "The story is, that David was in deep trouble with his old man. It seems that this whole neighborhood project was totally against his father's wishes. It was too high profile or something, I guess. But the son went ahead with it anyway. Seems David was trying to step out from under his father's shadow and establish his own power in the city. Daddy wasn't too thrilled. According to one story I read, Falcone Sr. has disavowed any knowledge of his son's business affairs and has pretty much washed his hands of the guy. Looks like sonny boy is on his own. I don't think that we have to worry anymore about the Falcones."

"What about all the people that lost property or businesses through this mess?" Danny said.

"I can answer that," Michael said. "Dad's lawyer called this morning. Due to the criminal nature of the activities of one, David Falcone, all transactions are null and void. It's like they didn't happen. Some of us will have to testify in court, but for all intents and purposes, everything's back to normal."

Sandra shivered, thinking about how bad things could have been. She was immensely lucky to be sitting here at all!

"I'm so glad," Sandra whispered.

"Are you okay, sweetheart?" Michael said, running a finger gently down Sandra's cheek. She looked at him and smiled radiantly. His heart flipped over, as it always did.

"I'm more than okay," she said. "I have you."

"Ah, you guys aren't going to get all gooey again, are you?" Danny said in mock disgust.

"Probably," Sandra teased. "You should try it. It's great. Right Rita?"

Rita looked deeply into Garth's eyes. "It sure is!" Both couples kissed.

"God, at least wait until I leave the room!" Everyone laughed. Life, at that moment, felt very good.

"Promise me you won't go on any more crusades, even with a good reason?" Michael nuzzled her neck, making it hard for Sandra to concentrate on a proper answer.

"I promise," she said at last.

"I forgot to tell you," Erin broke in, twirling her lovebeads. "Randy says hi and he hopes you're okay."

"How is Randy?" Sandra asked. She could feel Michael stiffen beside her. "Is he still seeing Vicky?"

"It seems your cousin gave Mr. Romance the old heave-ho after the whole business at the dance," Erin's twin, Amber, replied. Sandra flushed in remembrance. "Last I heard, Randy had packed his guitar and left school to join a band. He called me when he saw your story in the paper."

"I'm glad," Sandra said, turning to look at Michael. "Vicky deserves someone wonderful like I have." Her eyes told him not to worry about old ghosts. He smiled his relief and she felt his body relax.

"Here they go again," Danny said, rolling her eyes.

***

The Santorelli's natural warmth and exuberance eventually won over Sandra's conservative parents. Like their daughter, they responded to the kindness and generosity, the obvious love and concern. They warmed quickly to Michael, especially as they watched his attentions to Sandra, and her blossoming beauty under his care. It was obvious to them that the young couple had found the real thing, that rare thing called true love.

Mrs. Reese took Sandra aside one evening.

"I want to tell you something," she said, her tone betraying her tension.

Oh God, let her not attack Michael in his own house, Sandra thought. She was surprised by her mother's next words.

"I was wrong," her mother said. "I'm sorry for the things I said the other day. I see now how wrong I was."

Sandra hugged her mother fiercely. Thank you God.

"It's okay Mom," she said, tears welling in her eyes. "I'm just so glad you see how wonderful Michael truly is. Even when I've done something foolhardy, he's understanding and forgiving. He really does love me."

"Yes, I can see that," Mrs. Reese said, smoothing her daughter's hair and smiling, herself choked with emotion. "It's evident every time he looks at you."

"Then it's okay?" Sandra said, wanting her mother's approval.

"You don't need our approval," her mother said. "In this instance you've had more sense than your parents. Follow your heart dear. Your father and I want you to be happy."

"Thanks Mom," Sandra said, hugging her mother once more. Her heart was bursting with the love she felt for the world at that moment. A love that radiated around her and Michael like a bright, golden cloud.

So it came as no surprise, when on the last evening of their visit in the Santorelli home, Michael got down on one knee before Sandra and in front of his family and hers, proposed.

"Sandra, sweetheart," he began, taking her hands gently into his and looking deeply into her adoring eyes. "Three nights ago, when I thought I might lose you, I realized that my destiny was completely entangled with yours. If anything happened to you, I'd perish. I know that we need time to get to know each other more deeply, and to follow the life's paths we're on right now, you at school and me with the business. But, sweetheart, I know right now that I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I know you can't measure love by the pound, but if I could I'd corner the world market for you. Will you marry me? Please say yes."

Sandra was completely overcome by her feelings of love for this remarkable man kneeling at her feet. She reached out and touched his dear face, marveling at the direction her life had taken in a few short months. Where was that frightened, gawky girl who started school that fall? Where was the self-deprecating insecurity, the low self-esteem, the fear of failure? All gone because of this man. She smiled, conveying her own adoration with her eyes. Then a voice pierced their bubble.

"Answer him, for crying out loud!" Danny said, provoking gales of laughter from the two families. As the laughter died down, Sandra once again looked at Michael and said,

"Yes."

As his arms went around her, and the families applauded and cheered, Sandra knew she would never feel lonely or frightened again. Pound for pound, she was the happiest woman on Earth.

The End

About the Author

Judy Bagshaw

Canadian eAuthor Judy Bagshaw is a woman with a mission and a unique vision. She has lived all her life as a large size person in a thin-obsessed world. In her role as a full time elementary school teacher for over two decades, she has personally witnessed the effect this thin obsession has had on many of her young, impressionable students. She has also recognized the need for people of size to see themselves represented in the media as more than the butt of jokes, the villain, or the jolly sidekick. To this end, Ms. Bagshaw's romance short stories and novels feature plus size central characters living rich, involved lives, just as she has.

You can read excerpts of Ms.Bagshaw's upcoming stories at her website, http://writerlady.homestead.com/homepage.html.Sign her guest book or contact her at writerlady@homestead.com.

Currently available are Ms. Bagshaw's romance novel, LOVE BY THE POUND (http://www.wordbeams.com/pound.html), a story of first love; two holiday themed short stories, 'Belle's Jingle' and 'Saint Nic' in MERRY MUSINGS: A HOLIDAY ANTHOLOGY (http://www.wordbeams.com/musings.html); and you can find her short story, 'Chance Encounter,' featured in Wordbeams' first romance anthology, LOVEY-DOVEY (http://www.wordbeams.com/lovey.html). Ms. Bagshaw's second romance novel, TEACHER'S PET (http://www.wordbeams.com/teacher.html), is a story of triumph over adversity. Both of Ms. Bagshaw's novels feature plus size heroines.

And if you like to cook, you'd be wise to check out her contribution to AND THEY CAN COOK TOO! IN THE KITCHEN WITH WORDBEAMS' AUTHORS. http://www.wordbeams.com/cook.html