As she was taking all this in, someone cleared his throat behind her.  She turned, and Brad was there, dressed in a formal Waiter's outfit, complete with the white cloth over his forearm.  He gestured gracefully, and led Alice to the table without a word.  After seating her, he said in a soft voice, "Mr. Rodenthal sent word that he would be unavoidably detained.  He sends his regrets, and bids you make yourself comfortable until he arrives.  If there is anything I may get for you, Ma'am..." 

She smiled, and played along.  "I would like a glass of water, and breadsticks," she said, opting for the traditional fare of girls waiting on their boyfriends in fancy restaurants. 

"Very well, Ma'am." Brad bustled off, leaving Alice alone once again. 

It was a minute before the speaker eased into the strains of 'Starlight Serenade', one of her favorites.  It was slow, romantic, and old.  Thomas walked in, looking quite dapper in a white tuxedo, with a black tie and handkerchief.  He was carrying a long, thin white box under his arm, and Alice got the distinct impression that his delay was only so he could walk in during this song. 

"I'm dreadfully sorry I'm late," he lied. "Have you been waiting long?" 

It was all Alice could do to keep from laughing.  "No, not at all." 

Thomas smiled, and handed the box to her as he sat down.  "I got these for you," he said a bit self consciously. 

She opened the box as the final strains of the song played out.  Inside were two long-stemmed roses, one a deep red, the other black.  As she was wondering what the significance was, Brad appeared with a silver vase.  She looked Thomas in the eye as she handed Brad the box, then looked down, bashfully.  Brad discretely placed the vase on the table and vanished.  The big band was replaced by a winsome piano, playing something she didn't recognize, but the atmosphere of the place subtly changed. 

"You must have been planning this for days," Alice commented. 

Thomas smiled, and made eye contact.  "Since I saw you get off the plane." 

Alice could feel herself flush.  She suddenly didn't know what to say.  Luckily, she didn't have to say anything, for Brad chose that moment to make his third appearance, tray in hand. 

The meal appeared before her like magic.  She distracted herself by wondering idly what sort of favor Thomas had promised Brad for such a virtuoso performance.  They were served roast chicken breast, steamed asparagus, and au gratin potatoes.  Everything was prepared expertly, and she was admiring the artful way the food was arranged on her plate as Brad made a show of presenting the wine bottle for Thomas' inspection.  He seemed to approve, and a crystal goblet of fine white wine was placed in front of both of them. 

The meal passed like a dream for her.  When she looked back on it later, she remembered them talking about her job, his scouts.  She recalled discovering what they had in common, what they held apart.  Brad continued the performance like a pro, appearing only when he was needed, and vanishing as soon as he wasn't.  She realized later that the meal took two hours, for they were just finishing their coffee and mints as the sun was going down.  They watched the sunset from a swing for two that sat on a knoll overlooking the island a little ways from the Hootch.  She felt that warm glow known only to women who have had all the stops pulled for them and only for them.  She snuggled up to him, choosing to pretend that the breeze was much cooler than it was.  His scent filled her nostrils, clean and honest, but unmistakably male. 

They walked that night along the edges of the mangrove swamp, it's dense mass rife with the sound of unseen frogs.  They strolled by the forest, awash with the cries of nocturnal birds and the chirping of crickets.  They walked through the resort, the muffled sounds of lovemaking coming from not a few of the cabins.  They came to her cabin, and stood there on her porch, lost in each others eyes.  If this ever gets made into a movie, this is the part where college freshmen will yell at the screen "Kiss Her!  Kiss Her!" 

He did. 

When they had finally come up for air, Thomas started to wish her goodnight, but she wasn't standing for any of that.  "Oh, no, you aren't getting off that easy, Boyo.  You get your handsome, romantic self inside.  Now." He shrugged, grinning, and let himself give in to the inevitable. 

There was a silver vase of roses on a little table by the door.
 
 

An explosion shook the aging vessel in a mighty fist of rage.  Thomas staggered through the crazily listing passageways of his dreams, finding himself at the door of the Captain's stateroom.  The groan of tortured metal drowned out all else as he pushed the door open.  A bookshelf had torn loose from it's mountings, pinning his Captain's legs to the floor.  The black cat looked up, pain and rage in her eyes.  "Get off the ship!  Leave me!" she commanded. 

"I can't leave you," his young voice said without his willing it.  He moved to the shelf, staggering drunkenly as the deck tilted further. 

"You miserable excuse for a wharf rat!  Get your ass off my ship!  I'm dead anyway!" she screamed at him. 

Thomas pried his fingers under the heavy steel cabinet.  His feet slipped in a thick streak of blood oozing from under it. 

"Mr. Rodenthal!  I gave you an order to abandon ship!  If you don't, I'll see you in hell!  Go!" 

Her voice held something that struck him like a crowbar.  He staggered out of the cabin, tripping over the books and broken glass that lay everywhere.  The ship shuddered again, and the lights flickered and died as the dream faded.
 
 

Alice awoke in the pink glow of the very content.  She lay there, purring, replaying the events of the night before.  Satisfied that she remembered everything in it's glory, she rolled over to give Thomas a kiss. 

He wasn't there. 

Confused, she arose, and padded nude to the door.  She saw him, sitting hunched on the edge of the porch, staring out at the sunrise. 

Gloria Rumpp was sitting with him. 

She went back silently, and cried into her pillow for a long long time.
 
 

Thomas walked over to her table at breakfast.  She was sitting by herself, stabbing at her eggs as if they were cockroaches on her plate.  Nothing else had been touched.  Woah, he said to himself.  Something sure is bothering her.  I wonder if I went too far last night.  Naah, that can't be it.  She seemed as if it was more her idea than it was mine.  He reflected on some of the things she had done last night, and decided that it probably was her idea more than his. 

"What's wrong, beautiful?" he asked, sitting down. 

She looked up at him, hatred and killing in her eyes.  Before she even spoke, he reeled from the attack. 

"I suppose you take me for a fool." she accused.  "I suppose you thought, 'Here's a pretty girl who hasn't had any in years, I'll just turn on the charm and she'll be putty in my hands.'  I suppose that you got Sylvia and Brad to butter me up for you to make it easier." 

Thomas backpedaled like a madman.  She was hissing at him!  It was all he could do to ask, "What are you talking about?" with a suddenly dry throat. 

She was beside herself, waving an accusing finger at him.  "I wonder if Gloria felt the same way when you brought her roses.  Was she a good fuck, Thomas?  Did she suck you off too?  Did she make you feel like a man?" 

As she tore into him verbally, he noticed her scent.  He suddenly recalled what she had confided to him the night before, that she had not had a period in five years, that her doctor had said it was due to the stress of her job.  He felt stupid that he had not noticed before he had even sat down, but her scent hit him like a well aimed halfbrick now. 

It had the smell of blood in it. 

He rallied.  "Is that what you are going on about?" he reached across the table and gently took his hand in hers.  "Listen to me.  Listen.  There has never been anything between me and Gloria.  We haven't exchanged more than a dozen words since she came here." She started to go off again, but he quickly stopped her. "Listen.  When I was Nineteen, I was shipwrecked here.  I still have nightmares about it.  It scares the living daylights out of me.  Last night, I had one.  I got up and went out to the porch so I wouldn't wake you, and Gloria was there.  I don't care if it is the Devil himself who shows up, when I'm like that I would cry on his shoulder too." 

"But-but I saw you..." 

"Never mind what you saw.  She's been pissed at me since I told her I wouldn't sleep with her a week ago.  She was probably watching us all last night, waiting for a chance to get back at me." 

Alice's rage had petered itself out by this time.  "Oh, Thomas, I'm sorry..." she collapsed visibly, putting her head in her hands and sobbing.  Thomas was around the table in a flash, comforting her, holding her to him as she cried onto his shoulder.  He made comforting noises as he scanned the room for any curious lookers-on.  He just caught a glimpse of a Vixen's tail as it left the room.
 

Gloria was sitting by herself on the floating portion of the dock, letting her feet drag in the outgoing tide.  She was staring at nothing, and had been staring at nothing for hours.  The pads on her feet were wrinkled with waterlog, and the aluminum planking around her was hot enough to be painful, but she didn't care.  She didn't look up when someone swam out to her. 

"Feels pretty shitty when someone else has something you don't, doesn't it?"  It was Sylvia, treading water a few feet from her. 

Gloria didn't answer, only nodded. 

"Feel bad about what you tried to do?" asked Sylvia. 

"You know?" Gloria looked miserable. 

"Everyone knows.  Not many are happy with it, either.  Brad says he's never going to talk to you again." 

"Then why are you talking to me?" 

"Maybe because I understand." 

"Do you?" 

"I know what it feels like to have everything you want but love.  I imagine that's what you feel like now." 

Gloria nodded again. 

"Maybe you would feel better about it if you went out and got it for yourself instead of taking it from other people.  I mean love, real love, not just sex.  Think about it." With that, she swam off. 

That afternoon, Gloria borrowed a launch, and took it to Fairport.
 
 

Gloria walked along the back alleys of Fairport without paying attention to where she was going.  She wore little clothes, and anyone could see she had nothing of value to steal, so she was left alone by those around her.  If she was still walking that night, however, it would be a different story.  Pretty young girls did not walk here alone.  Not at night.  She had left the launch in the marina surrounded by new, gaudy boats, so  there was little chance that a thief would take hers instead of some playboy's cigarette. 

A old woman with a Bear's face attracted her attention, standing in front of a tiny shack nestled between much larger buildings.  She had once been quite tall, but now she was hunched over with the weight of years bearing down upon her.  She wandered over to her, wondering what the old lady had to say to her. 

"You seem a proud young girl, but I see you need help." 

"I have no money to give you, Ma'am," she said, awed by the old woman's power of presence. 

"We shall see if you have anything of value, come, come inside with me, little one." said the old Bear, despite the fact that Gloria was almost half a foot taller than she. 

Intrigued, Gloria followed her through the beaded curtain at the front of the shack.  She had never been afraid of anyone, and she wasn't going to start now, she decided. 

The smell inside the shack was almost overpowering.  A little brass incense burner spewed sweet smoke like a tiny volcano.  There were small brass lamps here and there, giving the room a dim, mysterious appearance.  A small round table sat in the center of the room, with two chairs huddled against it. 

"Well, now, let us see what we can see."  The woman took the chair opposite the door, and Gloria took the other.  The reached for her hand, and she gave it.  The old woman's hand was surpassingly warm and soft.  She bent over Gloria's palm, studying it. 

After a few moments, Gloria felt uncomfortably hot.  It was if the walls had moved in to crowd them, even though she could see they hadn't.  The old woman chose this time to speak.  "You are a proud one, Edith.  But I see a change coming over you.  The next few days will be a growing time.  Like any other time of growth, it will be a painful one." 

There was a longer pause.  "I see your husband, Edith." 

Gloria felt dizzy.  She was aware of the old woman speaking to her for a long time, but the time somehow seemed to take no time at all.  The smell of the burning incense began to make her head hurt.  She felt the room twist around her, but her eyes told her all was still.  The old woman looked up into her eyes and laughed.  It was not a evil laugh, but one filled with joy and happiness.  She felt herself falling, the old woman's eyes suddenly filling the world... 

Gloria blinked.  She was standing on the street, and the sun stood where she left it, as though no time had passed.  She turned to look back at the little shack, but there was only a blank wall. 

Then it struck her.  "How did she know my name?"