There wasn't much time after the movie if Tami was going to meet her 10 o'clock curfew. That was something of a relief to her, because she didn't think Eric would drive and park at some make-out spot with so little time left. She didn't want to have to put him off again if his hand strayed. It wasn't that she hadn't enjoyed the feel of his hand there, but if she allowed him to do that, then on the next date he might try the next thing, and then the next…she figured she better throw up a red light before he picked up too much speed.

Eric pulled his pick-up to the curb several feet away from the parsonage. He probably didn't want Tami's parents spying on them out the window.

He clicked off the engine but left the keys dangling, which Tami supposed meant he wasn't planning to walk her to the door just yet. "Did you have good time?"

"Yeah," she said. "It was fun."

"So, uh…you want to go out again next weekend?"

She nodded.

"Maybe a picnic?"

"In February?" By next Saturday, it would be February – just barely.

"Oh, yeah," he said. "Probably not the brightest idea I ever had."

She laughed.

"I just…you know," he looked at her with a smile. "I don't want to stare at a screen the whole time next time. I want to …Connect."

Connect. What did he mean by connect?

Mo had taken things slowly the first couple of months, being the good choir boy that he was back then, but once he started down that road to sex, he'd been a bit like a barreling train, picking up steam every date, urging her to the moment sooner than she'd been ready. She'd said yes, of course; it was her choice, but it was a choice made under duress. She'd been afraid of losing him. She didn't want to make the same mistake with Eric. And if he'd already started his engine…

"What do you have in mind, exactly?" she asked.

"I thought we could do something fun Saturday afternoon?"

"What about the bar? You're taxing one to seven, aren't you?"

"My dad wants me to switch to Friday evenings now that football season is over." Eric had never worked Fridays at the coffee shop. "The crowds aren't at the high school games anymore. They're at the bar watching sports, and he needs more coverage."

Tami wondered if that would also mean no more bar chats with her father. She didn't see her father wanting to hang out in the midst of the Friday night crowd, and perhaps Eric was pulling back from that relationship now that he was dating her. She hated to think she'd driven a wedge between Eric and her father. She thought Eric could use a male role model that was a little more hospitable than his father or Coach Connor, who, as far as Tami could tell, only had one volume – yell. Yet talking with the Reverend had to be more awkward for Eric now. He wasn't the pastor anymore. He was the girlfriend's father.

"So how would you like to connect?" she asked.

"Maybe we could drive to Odessa. Go to the art museum?"

Well, he certainly wasn't going to try to get very far in an art museum, but it was over an hour's drive to Odessa, over an hour away from the watchful eyes of her parents, and there were probably plenty of places to park between here and there.

"Is that a bad idea?" he asked. "I thought you might like it. You said you loved the art history unit in your history class your junior year."

"You remembered me saying that?" And he had filed that information away and then applied it to please her? Tami was impressed.

"There's no museums around here. It's just a little over an hour's drive. Walk. Talk." He smiled. "Look at pretty things with a pretty girl."

"That sounds really nice," she said. "I'd like that."

He leaned over and kissed her. He left his hand on her hip, but when the kiss grew deep, and he moved his hand up her side to just below her breast and let it linger there, like he was testing the waters to see if the tide had changed, she pulled away. "It's probably almost 10," she said.

"Yeah. I'll walk you to the door."

He hustled around and opened the passenger's side door while she was recovering her purse from the floor. "That's pretty old fashioned," she said when she stepped out and he closed the door.

"Sorry. I won't do it again."

"I didn't say I didn't like it." She took his hand.

At the door, he let go of her hand. He glanced over her shoulder like he expected it to open any second. "I had a really good time," he said.

"Me too." She leaned in for a goodnight kiss, but his peck was short before he pulled away and looked over her shoulder again. "It's okay," she said. "My dad's not waiting behind the front door with a baseball bat."

He smiled. "Well, yeah. He's much more likely to have a really heavy Bible."

[*]

Her father was awake when she came in, reading in the living room arm chair by the fire, not the Bible, but some thriller by Ken Follett. Shelley was awake, too, watching an episode of Charles in Charge she had recorded earlier in the week.

Tami settled onto the couch. "Mom asleep?" she asked.

"She went to bed at 9," her father answered. "How was the movie?"

"Come on, Daddy," Shelley said, "you know Tami wasn't actually watching the movie." She snickered at her big sister.

"We watched the movie," Tami insisted, in a low voice of warning.

"Yeah, really? You mean Eric wasn't too busy playing keymaster?" Shelley had seen the movie with a friend the previous weekend, supposedly a girl, but Tami knew she'd actually gone with a girl and two boys, one of whom was Mason Davneport, the kid their father wasn't too fond of.

"What is your sister talking about?" the Reverend asked.

"I have no idea," Tami said, shooting Shelley a scalding look.

"Eric looks kind of like Scott Baio," Shelley said, nodding to the television.

"He looks nothing like Scott Baio," Tami insisted.

"Yeah," Shelley agreed. "Scott Baio is way hotter."

"Scott Baio is a total dweeb," Tami told her.

"Well," the Reverend announced, slamming his book shut and standing from his chair. "I'm going to leave you two to settle this very important debate while I head off to bed. Tami, put out the fire."

After the Reverend had disappeared down the hall and up the stairs, Shelley said, "Yeah, Tami, put out the fire," and laughed.

Tami rolled her eyes.

"Did you let Eric make it to second base?"

"Shell, do you even know what second base is?"

"Petting above the waist," Shelley said, as though she were reading from a dictionary, "including touching, feeling, and fondling the chest, breasts, and nipples."

"Oh good Lord."

"I'm not the innocent little girl you want me to be, Tami. I'm all grown up now."

"You are not all grown up. You are far from all grown up."

"I can officially start dating when I'm a sophomore."

"But I take it you're unofficially dating Mason Davenport now. Was that a date at the movies last weekend?"

"Yes, but I only let him get to first base. I know second base is for the second date."

"No it's not!" Tami exclaimed, horrified to think her little sister was going to let Mason Davenport feel her up.

"Calm down. It's oaky if Eric got to second base tonight, even though it was y'all's first date, because I heard he stole first base before you were even dating."

"Heard where?" Tami asked.

"I heard Mom and Daddy talking about how Daddy caught you kissing on the street."

"Oh." Tami was wondering if someone had seen them knock over that chair in the coffee shop. "Listen, Shelley, you do not have to go to second base on a second date. You can go on as many dates as you want and still not go to second base."

"Not if you want him to keep asking you out," Shelley said.

Tami sighed. "Don't do that, Shell. Don't give into a guy like that. Take your time. Really. You're young. Slow down."

"Is that what you're doing?" Shelley asked. "Taking it slow with Eric Taylor? Quarterback? Football star? At least he was a star before he bombed at State. I'm sure he's had sex with a lot of girls by now."

"No! He's been with one." Tami regretted telling her that when the words were out. That was Eric's business, not Shelley's, but her sister had put her on the defense. "And, no, I didn't let him take second base, and he's not doing it on the second date either, or the third."

"Really?"

"Really. Shell, you can get to know a guy first. "

"You've known Eric Taylor for months. Y'all have been friends since September."

That was true, Tami realized. Friends who sometimes took long walks at night together, sharing their hopes and fears. Did Eric think all that counted as steps along the road to sex? Would his expectations be higher because of that?

"None of that matters, Shell. The only thing that matters is what you want. And whatever you do, don't let Mason Davenport get to second base. He's not worthy of second base. Your bases are valuable, okay? Don't forget that."

Shelley laughed. "My bases are valuable," she muttered, and walked over and turned off the television. "Sex is no big deal," she told Tami. "Mom just makes it into such a big deal because she's a total prude."

"It is a big deal," Tami insisted. "It's a very big deal. Save it for someone who matters, someone you've dated a long time, someone you love. Shell. Please. I'm telling you this as your big sister, as someone who loves you." As someone who knows that a small part of you dies when you throw your virginity away, she thought, but she didn't say that, of course.

"Fine," Shelley said, and walked over to the fire place. "I'll put the fire out."