The party starts slowly for Sandra as her nerves get the best of her until Willow stays by her side, introducing her to some other students playing a trivia game. She quickly becomes popular for knowing answers to bizarre questions ranging from ancient civilizations to art history. When they break off into teams for a second round of trivia, Sandra is the first to be chosen, which might be the only time she's ever won a popularity contest. When asked how she knows so much about history and art, she replies that her father is a history buff and she's planning to major in fine arts. Willow keeps her secret, knowing that if people find out she is the daughter of David Roslin, they might bombard her with questions about him instead of getting to know her, making it less likely that she will find new friends.
She has such a good time that she calls her father and asks if she can stay an hour longer. Being around people closer to her age reminds her of how much she has been missing out on, and she's grateful that none of them seem interested in getting drunk or high.
Her eyes keep wandering to the RA overseeing the party, who frequently checks in with her to make sure she's having a good time and assures her she is welcome even though she doesn't live in the dorms.
Willow follows her to the buffet table where she is choosing her next slice of pizza. "I see you've noticed Mason."
"I certainly have noticed Mason," she purrs in reply with a devilish grin. "What do you think of him?"
"He's cute, sexy, nice, and taken already."
"Well, poop. Any chance he'll break up with her to go out with a cute 16-year-old art major?"
"Doubtful. His boyfriend is Gunner, the RA in the dorm where we have the party next week."
"Oh, man, you really know how to hurt a girl, don't you?" Sandra sighs in disappointment.
"Thought you should know before you get too smitten. Gunner is equally as gorgeous as Mason. They'll probably get married someday."
"I bet they're cute together."
"The cutest. Don't worry, you'll find someone. Is your dad the type that needs to meet them first since you're so young?"
"Um, yeah, he likes to meet them but I don't mind. I – I don't really have the best track record when it comes to guys," she whispers. "But I don't wanna talk about it here. What about you? Is your boyfriend coming tonight?"
"He might stop by. Can I tell you a secret about how I met him?"
"Sure! I promise I won't tell anyone." Sandra can't remember the last time a female friend trusted her enough to share a secret. Then again, she hasn't had a female friend her age in quite some time.
"Let's go back to my room and talk."
Willow currently does not have a roommate. The girl she lived with flunked out first semester and returned home and since the dorms aren't full, she is allowed to stay in the room at the regular double rate.
"So, how did you meet?" Sandra asks when they get inside and shut the door.
"Okay, so you can't tell anyone this, especially your father. Because he's a dean," Willow says when she sees the look of confusion on Sandra's face. "Brad was my TA in the poli-sci course I took last semester. People think we didn't start seeing each other until the semester was over, but that's not true. We were involved while I was in the class."
"Now I know why my dad can't know - he could lose his assistantship over that."
"He could and then he'd have to drop out because he can't afford to pay the tuition. He was just a grader, not the teacher. And most of the exams were multiple choice. The ones that weren't were graded by the instructor, so Brad had no influence over my grade. But when he had office hours and nobody else showed up, we'd shut the door and make out."
"I don't know that we can be friends anymore, Willow. You could prove to be a bad influence on me," she teases.
"You have your own secrets, don't you?" Willow asks, grinning and lightly bumping her with her arm.
The smile from Sandra's face immediately fades, and she glances away from her friend to avoid eye contact.
"Hey, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you upset," Willow says, noticing her sudden mood change. "You don't have to tell me anything."
"How can you tell?"
"You're really nice but you're kind of guarded. And I think there might be other reasons that you're always wanting your dad's approval."
"Maybe you should become a psychologist," Sandra sighs, offering a small smile to let Willow know she's not offended.
"Ugh, I've spent enough time in therapy to know that's the LAST thing I want to be," she replies with an exaggerated eyeroll.
"You, too, huh?" Sandra laughs. "Well, I don't wanna get into the whole story of my life, but I will tell you that my last boyfriend, the one I thought was so great, is in jail right now and he'll be there for quite a while."
"Shit, you're not kidding, are you?"
"I wish I was."
David Roslin is the kindest, most considerate man Larissa Lydiatt has ever been involved with. Not only does he show up at her door exactly on time with an excellent vintage of wine, but he also helps her finish cooking and plate the meals, too. During dinner he charms her with his wit and peppers her with questions about her job, seemingly impressed when she tells him what her next investigatory story will cover. He's incredibly intelligent and genuine, not like other men she has dated. Many of the athletes from her past weren't so bright, possibly from being hit in the head a few too many times during competition. The rock star was just plain weird and didn't practice the best hygiene, and the actors - they were in a class by themselves. Most thought that playing a doctor, attorney, politician, or military commander on television qualified them to make conversation in those areas when, in reality, they came across as vain, clueless, and laughable. But not David. He's very real.
After dinner, he helps clear the table and load the dishwasher. When she turns to him with a glass of wine in her hand, instead of grabbing her and hauling her to the bedroom to ravage her like so many others have done, he searches her eyes while caressing her cheek with his fingers. With a touch so gentle she can barely feel it, he brushes her hair behind her ear, then pulls her to him, placing a lingering kiss on her lips.
"When do you need to get back tonight?" she mumbles as he kisses his way down her neck.
"Sandra and Cheryl are staying with Laurie and Bill tonight. I'm yours as long as you'll have me."
"We can take our time," she sighs happily when he finds that spot near her collarbone that instantly sends warmth through her body.
"All night if you want," he whispers, brushing her hair to the side to nibble on her ear lobe.
They move to the bedroom, beginning the slow dance of exploring each other, learning what they like, and building an intimate trust in one another. She discovers how soft his hair really is when she winds her fingers in it while he kisses a path down her body to between her legs.
The man is an expert at discovering what makes her soar, intently watching her face while he takes inventory of her desires. She's used to men watching her, oftentimes exaggerating her expressions, putting on a show to satisfy their egos, but with David, there's no need to feign her pleasure. He knows exactly how to love a woman, how to make her pant with desire, arch her back and twist the sheets in her hands as she moans in ecstasy, and make her fall apart so many times her legs shake with exhaustion. He bears little resemblance to her former lovers, and he's the only man that she allows to spend the entire night in her bed.
The lecture hall is noisy as students, faculty, and other spectators begin to trickle in at 11 am on Wednesday. Everyone is chatting, checking their phones, and finding their seats before Dr. Roslin addresses the group for his first official talk regarding Kobol since his book has been released. This is a teaser lecture, one that he hopes will be a springboard for students to sign up for his short course that he will offer the second half of the semester.
Sandra slips into a seat in the back hoping her father won't see her. If she's too bored, she can pull out her phone and discreetly check messages or play a few games and nobody will be the wiser. When she was little, she attended several talks he gave at academic conferences. It was a boring experience for her, the subject matter dry and uninteresting to most young children. But she sat quietly and watched her father stand in front of dozens of people, speaking enthusiastically about his passion, and while everyone else in the audience remained engaged, she would mentally check out and make up stories about wizards, magical beasts, talking trees, and other such things that stimulated her imagination. Her mother would place her arm around her as if she knew her mind was far away, and she sometimes wondered if she daydreamed of similar things while watching his lectures. Laura was always fascinated, sitting on the edge of her seat, her eyes filled with wonder watching their father. But she was older and very much a daddy's girl. Everything he did was fascinating in her eyes.
After his lectures, her mother would suggest they go out for ice cream. Sandra always considered it her reward for behaving herself and it was her motivation to stay quiet and pretend to listen to the talk. Her mother insisted on going to whatever ice cream shop was nearby rather than just a restaurant, because ice cream shops have dozens of flavors to choose from rather than the standard chocolate and vanilla.
Well, hello, Sandra thinks to herself when her eyes catch Larissa finding an aisle seat in the fourth row. Although her father never spoke to her about his date from Saturday night, she could see in his eyes that he had a good time. And not just in the 'got-laid' sense of good times, but an honest good time as well. He has been upbeat, smiling more often, making jokes, and generally good-natured. She had almost forgotten that side of him which is how he was when her mother was still healthy, before the darkness had settled on their family. It creates a warmth in her heart that has been absent for a long time and she's happy and hopeful for him. Cheryl, on the other hand, seems downright suspicious of the change in her father's demeanor.
The lights dim before he walks to the podium with a clicker in his hand. Dean Stockwell introduces him, reading a short biography of her father's accomplishments, and the audience responds with applause. Once that dies down, her father begins.
He's a tremendous public speaker – eloquent, personable, and a bit on the self-deprecating side which elicits laughter from the group, and especially from Sandra because she knows it's all true. Surprisingly, she finds herself drawn into the subject matter, her father weaving together tales of Kobol, leaving some subjects as cliffhangers, and teasing other subjects that will be covered in his short course. By the end of the talk, she decides if he wasn't her father, she would happily sign up for his course for college credit. Never once did she think about wizards or flying horses; however, she did miss the feel of her mother's comforting arm around her shoulders.
When the lecture officially ends and her father thanks those who came, Larissa jumps from her seat and makes a beeline toward the stage. On the opposite side of the room, another woman makes her way toward the stage, and when the lights finally brighten, Sandra can see that it's JJ. Larissa makes it to her father first, and they both stand with their arms around each other chatting happily with the dean and other faculty in attendance. That's when JJ stops, hesitates, then turns around and heads to the back exit.
Sandra catches up with her outside, calling her name out in the cold blustery wind.
"Hi, sweetie, I didn't even see you," JJ admits as Sandra jogs up to her. "Were you at the lecture?"
"Yeah, what did you think?"
"I'm very impressed. Your father is a talented speaker."
"He really is. I'm glad I went. Um, was it weird for you when you saw him with someone else?"
"That wasn't just anyone else, that was Larissa Lydiatt," JJ replies with a broad smile. "And, no, it wasn't weird. I don't want to accidentally interfere. They look really good together, don't you think?"
"They do. He hasn't introduced us yet. They haven't been going out for very long. Cheryl doesn't even know he's seeing someone, but I think she suspects something's up."
"I get the impression that it would be difficult to keep secrets from Cheryl," JJ surmises. "Sandra, have you had lunch?"
"I was on my way to the student union now to get something. Do you wanna join me?"
"I'd love to," she replies, placing her arm around her shoulders as they shiver in the frigid wind. "I know it's kind of cold out, but is there a place where we could eat and then get some ice cream for dessert? It'll be my treat!"
"Oh, um," Sandra replies, feeling an uneasy sense of deja vu. "Momma used to insist on getting ice cream all the time after daddy's conference talks. It was sort of our tradition. But he was never into lots of flavors. There's a reason momma and I always teased him and called him Mr. Vanilla."
"Would you like to keep that tradition going?" JJ asks, sensitive to the possibility that Sandra may decline because it's a memory that's currently too painful.
"Well, um," she stammers as they keep walking toward the student union, very aware of JJ's arm around her shoulders. Traditions don't have to disappear when people are lost. They can evolve, be shared with others, and still be as enjoyable as when they were first created. "Yeah, let's get ice cream," she decides. "I'd really like to do that with you."