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fiber in his diet.
He stared in disbelief. WELCOME TO AVERYL S HOME
PAGE. Ms. Wrong. Yep, Ms. Wrong. He clicked on the
PERSONAL INTERESTS button. Hiking, classical music, reading?
Where was the truth in advertising there? Why not drugs, drug-
crazed sex, followed by more recreational drugs?
Another swallow of bubbly beer to settle the growing nausea
about this smiley bitch blazing forth on his SVGA screen.
He kept navigating. He checked it all out. Clicked open the
thumbnail shots, nothing special really, just pics of the fun girl next
door so ready to take in some new unsuspecting fool. Not him.
He d learned. His feedback loop worked fine. Though now, having
snuck around behind Kate s back, he felt like he d been off
Dumpster diving in ripe garbage and the problem was more than
just coming up empty. Lose-lose.
His beer done, he needed another.
Last on one page was an option button: SEND E-MAIL TO
AVERYL. He clicked, had no idea where to begin, and backed out.
Face it, this toothsome Ms. Big Hair was not good for him.
Say, hypothetical, he d given in to those bedroom eyes. Once
funtime in LEGO-land was over, what was next? Nada. Minus
zero.
Namely, what did they talk about last Saturday, the two of them
walking the sandy beach of Lake Vancouver, dodging shrieking
kids in wet bathing suits? It was mostly Averyl s big tease, big
come-on.
I wouldn t have any problem our relationship got intimate real
soon, she said, a hand toying insouciantly with her hair.
Oh, you re catching me unprepared. The image of a bare-
assed tumble in the nearby woods left his mind in a dither.
Don t worry, I m a good Boy Scout, always prepared. Averyl
unzipped her beltpack and was wiggling a strip of aluminum-
encased Trojans. His smile broadened: Maybe he liked the idea of a
younger woman taking the initiative.
How long those last you?
Now, don t be getting the wrong idea. I m not that sorta
woman. I m choosy. Averyl took his hand, swinging it. A
longtime married man, faithful, you gotta be close to zero risk,
considering all that s out there.
Zero risk, huh?
Hey, I like you for other reasons too. Averyl let go his hand
and lightly punched his shoulder.
He should have known. She d come right out and said it. Said
he wasn t much more than a no-risk sex object that worked for her.
How could today turn out differently? She wanted to use him like
nothing more than a new Kleenex. God, he needed another beer.
He pushed out of the squawking desk chair and turning, his
eyes refocussed with silent, wordless shock: Kate.
Her leaning against the doorframe, as if she d been there for
minutes. Her eyes on him or past him? The knowing smirk at
her lips. His racing heart. Thump. Thump.
He fought the urge to look away. Didn t dare look back. He
smiled wanly.
You looked entranced, Kate said, her gaze micro-shifting
back to the home-page harpy.
He wanted to ask, How long you been standing here, sneaking
up on me? But he knew that remark would only get a scorched
earth conflict going. He couldn t think too much bus contention
across his synapses. Woman at work, he managed to say.
Kate squinted, said nothing.
Another wan smile. Woman at work. Duncan helped Averyl
put up that Web page. I wanted to see what they did. He sighed
with instant relief at fabricating this cogent, rational explanation.
How come you never mentioned is it Averyl? before?
Kate s face didn t quite have the relaxed look of acceptance, but it
was getting there.
She just joined us a few weeks ago, he said, amazed at his
new-found gift of swapping truth for fiction, on the fly yet. Excuse
me, I was headed out for another beer. His thumb lifted her chin,
he brushed her lips with a kiss, and he slipped past, refrigerator his
destination.
* * *
Later that night, he was in bed with Kate, about to doze off, his
back turned away from her and her insomnia. It was the same, night
after night. She would not fall asleep and eventually, she said, she d
give up and leave bed to watch late-night TV.
I m afraid, she said, surprising him.
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