[Sunday, May 1]

Tami awoke to the sound of birds chirping and bright sunlight streaming through the fabric of the tent. She rolled over and saw that Eric was gone. She had to pee horribly.

She threw on her t-shirt and sweat pants and made her way out of the tent. She saw Eric sitting on the log by the dead fire, in his jeans and t-shirt from yesterday, staring off through the opening at the view of the lake. He turned when he heard her and opened his mouth, but she said, "I'll be right back!" before he could say anything.

She grabbed her backpack and made her way into the woods for the bathroom, and then later down to a secluded inlet of the lake, where she took a quick skinny dip after ensuring no one was around, threw on fresh clothes, brushed her hair, ate a mint, and generally tried to make herself more presentable.

When she returned to the campsite, Eric was still on the log, but he was leaned forward now, his hands laced together, his head bent.

She slid onto the log next to him. "Hey. You okay?" she asked.

He sat up straight. "Yeah. I was just praying."

"You pray?"

Tami went to church every Sunday with her mother, but she didn't often pray outside of those pews. And here was Eric, who had only gone to youth group to get closer to Laura, and who had been to church maybe six times last year with his father, praying as the sun finished rising on the horizon.

"Yeah, sure, when I need to."

"What were you praying?" Only after it was out did she realize how intensely personal the question was.

He put a hand down on the log near her. "That you won't regret last night."

His eyes searched hers. She understood what Mrs. Hernandez had meant now, about a man's eyes saying more than his mouth.

Her lip quivered a little. "You have such an amazing heart, Eric." She leaned in and kissed him, slowly and tenderly. "I want to show you I don't have any regrets."

She took his hand and tugged him into a standing position with her. "You have another condom, right?" She smiled. "Your dad told you to keep two in your wallet at all times?"

He grinned. "Yeah."

She led him back to the tent.

The second time was even better than the first. She felt more confident now and more attractive after a night of sleep and bathing in the lake.

Tami told him where she wanted to be touched and kissed, and he fulfilled her every request. He guided her in rolling the condom onto him, breathing harder at her touch, and after he had eased inside her, she wrapped her legs around his waist. He moved deliberately, not putting his weight on her, but instead holding himself up by the palms of his hands, as if he were doing a kind of plank.

"You're so strong, Eric" she told him, running her hands along the straining muscles in his arms and moving to match his rhythm. "Strong and gentle at the same time. I love it. I love you. I love the feel of you. I want you."

He closed his eyes at the sound of her voice. She could tell how much her spoken desire excited him. He was trying to control himself, pace himself, for her.

"Eric, baby, make me cum." She jerked her hips faster. "I want to cum for you."

"Yes..." His breath grew more ragged even as her own desire mounted. "Only for me, Tami. Only for me."

[*]

Eric lay on his back afterward, his chest rising and falling as he returned to a near regular breathing pattern. Tami kissed his chest and said, "We should talk about the future. I mean, how we're going to handle the long distance thing. How soon I can get to Waco."

"You mean you are going to try to get to Waco?"

"My first year at Tyler Junior, I'm going to get that kick-ass GPA you said I'd get. And I'm going to write some awesome essays, like I did for Wuthering Heights, and then see if I can get some grants and scholarships and transfer to Baylor. We'd just be apart one year, if I can do it. Think you can handle one year? As a compromise?"

"Yeah," he said. "We'll work it out."

She kissed his shoulder. "And you can write me love letters."

He laughed. "I don't know how good at that I'll be."

"Please? Every girl collects love letters, you know."

"You still have Mo's?" he asked.

"I burned them," she said. "Didn't you write Laura any?"

"I wrote her letters occasionally. Mostly about what I was up to. I'm not very romantic."

Tami draped her leg over his. "That's okay. I don't want you digging up my grave anyway."

"What?"

She told him about her conversation with Mrs. Hernandez regarding Wuthering Heights. "She was a really funny lady." Tami sniffled.

Eric held her tight. "You need to cry again, babe, go on ahead. I'm here."

"You're more romantic than you know, Eric."

[Monday, May 2]

Eric held Tami's hand tightly through the entire memorial service. She listened to Mrs. Hernandez's children, a 50-something son and a daughter, and her grandchildren, who were in their 20s, speak about her. She didn't really recognize the woman they were describing – a mild mother of two, who spent her entire life in one region of Texas.

The Mrs. Hernandez she knew had been larger than life.

The woman's late husband had owned a candy store, though – that much was true. Her son spoke of how his mother had painstakingly decorated truffles by hand, making miniature works of art.

Tami wondered how well Mrs. Hernandez's own family had known her, if perhaps she had lived a different life in her own imagination, and if only she had been born in a different time, she might have done some of the amazing things her mind dreamt up.

After the service, Tami had to keep explaining to people who she was and why she was there. In Eric's truck afterwards, she burst into tears, and he held her.

"They want to know how I knew her? Where were they the past four months? Not even a line in the guestbook. I would never do that to my mother."

"Of course you wouldn't."

She drew in a deep, shaky breath. He let go of her and put a hand on her knee and squeezed. "Hey, Tami, she at least had you. Those last few months. She had you."

Tami dug in her purse. She pulled out the tissues and blew her nose. "Thanks for being here with me."

[Saturday, May 7]

Eric held a beer out to Tami. He'd brought a picnic dinner – in a basket and everything – and they'd spread out a blanket at the secret paradise to eat. The sun was not yet setting, but it would begin to lower soon.

"No thank you," she said. "I don't really like beer. I liked the mimosas your dad made, though. I think maybe I could like wine."

"I'll bring wine next time, then," he said, and put the beer back in the cooler.

She scooted closer to him, wrapped an arm around his waist, and kissed his cheek. "If you want to fool around this weekend," she said, "we better do it tonight. I can't see you tomorrow. It's Mother's Day. Shelley and I are taking our mom out to dinner."

She could feel his muscles tensing. "You okay?"

"Sure. Yeah."

She raised her hand and toyed with his hair. "You're upset because you're thinking about your own mother abandoning you." It was an observation, not a question.

He shrugged. "My dad and I will probably go to the movies." He was staring straight ahead and holding his lips together as though trying to keep himself from crying. "It'll be fine."

She kissed his cheek. "I cry every Father's Day," she told him.

"Well I don't cry every Mother's Day. No sense crying over someone I never even met. How ridiculous is that?"

"It's not at all ridiculous." She pulled his head toward her, so it was bent against her neck, and just held him. He was very quiet. He didn't sound like he was crying, but she felt his tears wet her flesh.

After a while, he sat straight and rubbed his hand quckly across his eyes and took in a deep breath. He looked out through the opening in the foliage to the lake. There was a boat in the distance. "I don't see anyone out there other than those fishermen, and I don't think they can see us if we move the blanket a little."

They repositioned the blanket to a more secluded spot, leaving the picnic basket where it was. As they kissed and he ran a hand up her leg under her skirt, she said, "I'd like to be on top this time."

He smiled. "Whatever I need to do to keep the customer satisfied."

[Sunday, May 8]

Tami's family went to a sit-down restaurant precisely four times a year – Tami's birthday, Shelley's birthday, Mom's birthday, and Mother's Day. When Dad was alive, they had gone every Sunday after church.

Tonight, they were at the Italian place where Eric had taken Tami for their first date, because Mom thought the eggplant was "to die for." While they were waiting for their desert – a single desert they planned to share, Mom reached her arms left and right to take each of their hands in hers. "Girls," she said, "I have some really exciting news to share with you. Some good news. I need to use the restroom, but I'm going to go ahead and tell you first, and when I come back, we can discuss any questions you have about it."

Shelley looked at Tami quizzically.

"John has proposed to me," Mom said, "and I've accepted him." She squeezed both of their hands and stood. "I'll be right back."

As soon as she was out of earshot, Shelley leaned forward on the table, looked at Tami across from her, and said, "What the fuck? Pastor John? He's so old!"

"Shelley, he's only fifty. She's forty."

"He's so plain."

"He's average looking. He's not ugly or anything like that," Tami said.

"But she has the hots for Mr. Taylor!"

"Mr. Taylor has absolutely no interest in Mom. And he has a new girlfriend. He and Mom aren't really compatible."

"And she and Pastor John are? Come on! You know she doesn't love him. She doesn't look at him the same way she looked at Dad."

"You're right. I don't think she loves him in that way. But …Shelley, this is Mom's decision."

"She's settling," Shelley said, shaking her head. "She's just settling."

There was nothing wrong with Pastor John. He was polite, sober, and moral. He had a steady job, and a parsonage that was bigger than their house. He shared Mom's religion. He wasn't all hellfire and brimstone, either, in fact, he was probably more religiously liberal than Mom. And he clearly liked her. But Tami didn't think he made Mom's heart race, the way Dad probably had.

Mom would be settling. But maybe, when you'd worked at just above minimum wage for six years, and you'd swallowed your pride and occasionally relied on charity, and you'd struggled to raise two daughters alone, and you had a house with bedrooms the size of walk-in closets, and you'd been without the affection of a man for over half a decade…maybe you were ready to settle.

Shelley shook her head. "You realize this means I'm going to have to live with him for at least the next three years."

"He's not a bad man, Shelley."

"I know, but what kind of rules is he going to enforce?"

"I can't imagine him being any stricter than Mom."

"Probably not," Shelley said, "but he might be more difficult to fool." She silenced herself as their mother approached and sat back down at the table.

Mom looked from Tami to Shelley. "So what do y'all think?"

"We think we want you to be happy, Mom," Tami said. "And we both wish you well and hope you will be."

Mom smiled.

Shelley was silent and looked a bit sullen.

"We're getting married the first weekend in June," Mom said. "I'm going to put the house up for sale. The parsonage has three bedrooms. The secondary bedrooms are bigger than either of the ones you have now, and you girls will have your very own bathroom to share, because there are two. That is, if you stay in Tyler, Tami. Because…I know you've thought of going to Waco Community College to be near Eric, and I know you didn't feel you could afford to do that." Mom took Tami's hand. "But I think you should do it, Tami, if that's what your heart tells you."

This surprised Tami greatly. She thought her mother would favor practicality over following a boy any day. Boys were trouble, as far as she was concerned, weren't they? "You think I should follow a boy to another town?"

"I think you should get an education and put yourself in a better position to support yourself than I did. And I think Eric has brought out the best in you when it comes to your mind and your self-confidence. I think he's a good influence on you, and if you go to Waco, and you live near him, and you live near Baylor, and you're in a college town, in the middle of all that…well, I think you might be more likely to follow through on your goals than if you're still stuck in Tyler, working at the same Chili's you've worked at since you were 14, seeing the same people you went to high school with, who didn't move on…"

"But…the debt I'd have to – "

"Tami, I won't need your help anymore. Don't you understand? When I get married and move in with John, I can sell the house. I should be able to pay off all of our credit card debt and give you and Shelley each $3,000 for college. And I'd still have a bit of savings of my own."

Tami blinked. $3,000? With her photography prize money, that would pay for two full years of tuition at Waco Community. All of her work earnings could go toward room and board. She could be near Eric the whole time, but wait to try to transfer to Baylor until she'd put in two full years at the cheaper college. "Mom, I – " Tami hesitated. Her mother wasn't marrying this man for her, was she? "Mom, I really appreciate that. But are you sure you're going to be happy with Pastor John?"

"He's a good man, Tami," she said.

"But are you attracted to him?" Tami asked.

The thought of having sex with a guy she wasn't attracted to…it made her skin crawl just a little, especially now that she knew what it was like to have sex with a guy she was intensely attracted to. Kissing Tom that one time had been tolerable, but she couldn't imagine having to have sex with him.

Shelley's eyes flitted from Tami's to Mom's.

"I respect John," Mom said, "and he's kind to me. He cares for me. I think he'll be a respectful and attentive husband."

"You don't love him," Shelley said bluntly.

"You can grow to love a person, honey," Mom said.

"You can," Shelley said, "doesn't mean you will. This all sounds kind of… mercenary…to me."

Mom got that angry expression of hers, where her eyelids fluttered and her lip twitched into a slight frown, but she spoke calmly. "You two are growing up. Tami won't be with us for more than another year or two at most, and she may go to Waco this August. You have three years until you graduate, Shelley, and then who knows where life will take you. It would be nice for me to have someone to have dinner with in the evenings, to sit on the couch with and watch the news, to talk to about my day, to put his arm around me, to care about me. I'm forty years old, and I'm not getting any younger."

"You're still gorgeous," Shelley insisted. "You could have any guy you wanted, if you just went after him."

"No, Shelley, I couldn't. And there aren't a lot of single, respectable, stable middle-age men in this world. And there are far worse things to base a marriage on than respect and companionship. Like lust, for instance."

Shelley rolled her eyes. "A passionless marriage," Shelley said, "sounds fabulous."

"You're young," Mom said. "You're romantic. But passion fades, or at least it fluctuates. Even with your father, it fluctuated. I hope you two girls, when you choose husbands, are sensible enough to choose men you can respect even during those times when the passion isn't there. Men you can trust. Reliable men. Men you can envision as decent fathers to your children."

Tami wondered if her mother regarded Eric to be such a man.

"I'd like you two to be my bridesmaids. I'd like you…I'd really like your blessing." She sounded like she was about to cry.

It was an unusual thing, that their mother should ask for their blessing, the mother who had born the weight of raising them alone for six years, who had assumed an authoritative role, playing both father and mother.

Shelley, who had been sitting with her arms crossed over herself and slumped back in her chair, sat straight. "Sorry, Mom," she said. "Of course you have my blessing. I just want you to be happy."

"Me too," Tami said. She raised her water glass. "Congratulations, Mom."

Shelley raised her glass too.

Mom smiled, and the glasses clinked, a muted, semi-joyful sound.