"Kirsten, baby, I'm sorry," said Sandy as she walked through the door. He stood up and gently placed his hands on her hips. "I never should have given you any grief about that car. I never should have called you a spoiled brat, not when you're the most wonderful person in the world and I love you so much. It's just…I hate how your father's always trying to buy your love. But you're right. It's not being rich that does that to people…and I guess…I'm sorry that I won't be able to spoil our kids like that." Kirsten looked at her husband's face and saw earnest insecurity shining through his eyes. Suddenly, she felt truly terrible for going to Jimmy's.

"It's okay. You were right, too, for the record. It's a lot of money for a car, and I am spoiled. I don't know the value of a dollar." She shrugged. "Comes with the territory. Maybe I'd be a better person if I'd had to work for every cent, or maybe I wouldn't. It's all water under the bridge, anyway. This is who I am."

"I know, and I love you," he told her, bending to kiss her. Kirsten closed her eyes and felt his warm lips kiss hers tentatively, as though he were afraid that she'd tell him to stop.

"By the way, this came in the mail today," Sandy told her when the kiss ended, offering her a small card-shaped envelope addressed to "Mr. and Mrs. Sanford Cohen." "It's from some family called Macabre." He grinned impishly. "What a name." Her smile faltered.

"It's Jimmy Cooper's girlfriend's name," she explained, taking what was obviously the wedding invitation Jimmy had told her was in the mail. "Julie Macabre. I'll bet this is a wedding invitation." She slit it open with her fingernail.

"Mr. and Mrs. Jonathan Macabre cordially request the pleasure of your company at the marriage of their daughter, Julie Diana, to James Cooper, Jr., son of Mr. and Mrs. James Cooper, on the twenty-fourth of June, nineteen eighty-five…" read Sandy over her shoulder. "Congratulations."

"Yeah, and a baby on the way," said Kirsten dryly. Sandy looked at her sharply.

"How do you know?" She sighed. Time to bite the bullet. There could be no secrets. Only…she wasn't going to say that she kissed him. That part, she reasoned, was okay to leave out.

"After you yelled at me today, I drove over to Jimmy's," she admitted. "We didn't do anything," she quickly assured him, "we just talked. I mean, I was really happy about the new car, and you weren't, and I just…wanted someone to be excited with me. Anyway, he told me." Sandy's look softened, but he still looked hurt.

"So we were fighting, and you went to your ex-boyfriend's to feel better," he established.

"It wasn't like that," Kirsten semi-lied. "I just…Jimmy and I, we come from the same world. His sixteenth birthday present was a Porsche 911. He understands."

"…Rich people?" offered Sandy sarcastically.

"Yes."

Well, at least she was upfront. He admired that about her. Still, it hurt. Sandy had never been sorry about working his way to where he was; in fact, he had been proud of it, until he met Kirsten Nichol. Her striking, sheltered beauty had hidden a fighting spirit, and he'd fallen hard for her, all memories of Rebecca Bloom wiped from his mind. But Rebecca had been so different. He had belonged in her world, whereas in Kirsten's, he'd never felt more out of his league. Everyone was so beautiful, and everything was so expensive, and no one ever seemed to notice. Kirsten Nichol had been the most beautiful, richest girl he'd ever met, and even in Newport Beach she was special—the golden girl—but it had been not about her beauty and wealth but rather her perfect grades, perfect community activity, perfect social status, and perfect boyfriend. Ex-boyfriend, rather…Sandy had realized early on that when it came to Newport Beach society, he wasn't going to live up to the Great and Wonderful Jimmy Cooper. And now she had gone to him, of her own free will, because Sandy didn't understand. He never would understand what it was to be spoiled, he realized, not even if Kirsten inherited her dad's millions and spoiled him for the rest of his life.

"I love you," she said to break the silence. "I love you so much. I'm so glad I said 'no' when Jimmy asked me to marry him."

"He asked you to marry him?" demanded Sandy. Kirsten laughed.

"When we were seventeen. Dad put him up to it. I was trying to be funny." Sandy laughed. Jimmy-jokes, he would never find funny, but for her sake he would pretend to be okay.

"I love you too, baby. I'm glad you were smart enough to…not get engaged at seventeen." They stood in the foyer for awhile, just kissing softly. Every time he touched her body, Sandy got shivers. She was so beautiful, so amazing, so very nearly perfect, and he couldn't believe that he was allowed to touch her, let alone kiss her, never mind actually being her husband. Suddenly, he felt her catch the hem of his shirt in her hands and gently pull it over his head.

"Should we—ah—move this to the bedroom?" Sandy asked, freeing his lips from hers for just long enough to make his query. Kirsten shrugged her shoulders and placed her lips on his again.

"We can if you want, but we don't have to," she said. "It's our house, after all. No one's coming…door's locked…only downside's the floor's a little cold."

It was cold, but he didn't mind.