[June 27]

Eric returned from the library while Karen was at the park with Andrew and Julie. His father was at a job site.

"Any luck?" Tami asked him as he grabbed some ice tea from the fridge. She was wiping down the table after a messy lunch with the kids.

"The research person helped me. I found there's a Wendy Durant who's a graduate student at Stanford. I doubt it's her, but I suppose it's possible she went back for a graduate degree to the same university where she got her college degree."

"Any contact information?"

He took a sip of the tea. "A university e-mail address."

They'd both gotten e-mail their last year of college, which they used only in the school computer lab, mostly to e-mail each other and their other college-age friends. It had been a novelty to them, and they didn't have access to those accounts anymore.

"Your dad has e-mail." Mr. Taylor had a dial-up account through something called AOL. He paid an hourly fee for its use. He was more on the cutting-edge of technology than they were. Tami supposed he saw some business advantage in having the account.

"I don't know how I could use his account without him noticing," Eric said. "She'd have to reply to him. And he'd read it before I did."

"Then maybe it's time to tell him what you're doing."

Eric shook his head.

[June 29]

Eric was late this evening, and he had to reheat his dinner plate. He told his father he'd been at a study group for a certification test, but Tami knew there was no such group. She came to him where he sat alone in the kitchen, staring at the sink and eating.

He looked up at her when she sat down across from him.

"Were you at the library again?" she asked.

"I got a phone number. I'm afraid I might come across as a creep if I call, especially if this Wendy turns out to be a grad student around my age. You said you'd help me in any way you could. Would you call her? Tomorrow? When my dad and Karen are at work?"

Tami nodded.

[June 30]

"Is this Wendy Durant?" Tami chirped cheerfully.

"It is," came a sleepy and annoyed sounding voice on the other end of the line. That was when it occurred to Tami that California was two hours behind Texas. She was hoping to get Wendy before classes, but not before breakfast.

"Sorry to bother you so early in the morning, but I'm doing a little genealogical research on behalf of my husband, and I was wondering if you might possibly have graduated from East Tyler High in 1970?"

"I was born in 1970. Who is this again?"

"I'm sorry I've troubled you." Tami hung up the phone.

That night, Eric was late again. Another "study group." Before he undressed for bed, he handed Tami a folded piece of paper. She was already in her thigh-length Baylor's nightshirt jersey. "This one's in L.A.," he said. "She's a partner in a law firm. So she must be at least my mom's age, I'd think. And my dad said my mom had planned to go to law school."

Tami took the paper from his hand, unfolded it, and looked at the number. "Is this helping you, hon?"

"You agree with my dad? That I shouldn't go looking?"

"You've seemed kind of...unhappy this past week. I just don't know if this is helping you."

"You don't want to know? For Julie's sake? What if she has some kind of genetic predisposition to - "

"- This isn't about Julie, Eric. It's about you. And if this helps you, if it's something you need, I'm behind you one hundred percent. But if it's just going to make you morose, make you dwell on something you'd mostly moved on from, if it's going to hurt you, I don't want any part of it."

"Call her. Please."

Tami sighed. "I will." She folded the paper and put it on the nightstand. She crawled into bed next to him. "You know, you haven't asked me about my day at all."

"I'm sorry. How was your day?"

"Julie skinned her knee, and you'd think she severed a limb. Andrew has gone down to just one nap. And another school officially rejected me."

"I'm sorry, babe. How many are left?"

"Five."

"Well, one of those five is meant for you."

"What if I don't get a job, Eric?"

He turned off the lamp. He rolled over and draped an arm around her waist. "You'll get a job. You're Tami Taylor. Counselor extraordinaire."

She laughed. He kissed her. "I love you. I'm sorry if I've been in a foul mood. Overhearing my dad say that, about my mom being blonde...I don't know why, but it set off this...this idea. And I just have to try. If there are too many more dead ends, I'll take it as a sign to stop."

"Okay. I'm here, Eric. You know that, right?"

"I know." He kissed her cheek and closed his eyes. "I know," he murmured again, before he fell asleep.

Tami lay awake another forty minutes.

[July 1]

Eric was on time for dinner tonight, barely. "Sorry I'm late," he said. He leaned down close to Tami. She'd just sat down at the dinner table. He kissed her cheek and whispered, "Anything?"

She turned her head to kiss him in return. "She was 65," she whispered in his ear.

Mr. Taylor asked her to pass the potatoes as Eric sat down. Karen said, "I have study group tomorrow night. I'm going to eat with them, if that's okay with you, Garrett."

"You do what you have to do," he said. "I'm proud of how well you're doing this term. I was just telling one of my men today how smart my wife is and how's she's going to be a doctor."

Karen smiled at him. He caught the smile with one of his own.

"Well," she said, "I was just telling one of my classmates how my husband is so determined and clever, that he was able to build a 1.2 million dollar business in under two years."

Eric spewed water from his mouth onto his plate. He coughed and apologized and then said, "What? 1.2 million dollars?"

Mr. Taylor shook his head. "In gross revenues, Eric. That's what we're slated to make by the end of this fiscal year, if we stay on target. But I have to pay all of the salaries out of that, and the equipment, and advertising, and taxes, and so forth."

"So what's your profit?" Eric asked.

"Most of my profit is re-invested in the business."

"What do you keep for yourself?"

"I pay myself a salary. A hundred grand, give or take."

"A hundred?" Eric asked. "That's over three times what I'll be making next year!"

Mr. Taylor laughed. "Well, son, I'm three times your age."

"Actually, you're not even twice my age."

"True. But you get my point."

"Yeah," Eric said. "I guess. I just...I had no idea you made that much."

"Hell, son, you'd be making over twice what I do now if you'd gone pro."

Eric gritted his teeth and Mr. Taylor appeared to regret his words. "You'll be making more than me one day, when you've worked your way up to coaching college ball. Give it another fifteen years."

Eric's jaw loosened.

"I'll be calling you for a loan then."

Eric almost smiled. Tami was happy to see it. That was the closest thing she'd seen to a smile all week.