This Novel (one of three in a series) does not represent bible prophesy.

It is a fictional account pre-dating the return of Jesus Christ.

Prologue

“What are you doing beggar? Come out and show yourself!”

 The hider timidly peeked over the wall. “I… I was only…resting.”

 “Rest somewhere else, thief!”  A grey bearded man bellowed, shaking his stick. “You nearly frightened my daughter to her grave!”

 “I am no thief!” the hider yelled. “I am Stephen! I am a hard working stonemason from Shechem…I am from the line of Libertines! I studied under Rabbi Gamaliel—”

 “And look at you now noble Libertine,” the grey bearded man said. “What have you done, that you must hide behind the house of an honorable man?”

 “I told you, I’m not hiding. I only recently arrived in Jerusalem for Passover…I…had a very tiring journey…I am only resting—”

 “Rest behind another man’s house,” the grey bearded man yelled back. “Frighten another man’s children!”

 “It’s just as well,” Stephen answered stepping out from behind the wall. “I find you… most unaccommodating and…nothing would please me more than to put a good bit of distance between you and me.”  He quickly turned and began making his way into the street, then suddenly turned back. “Tell me, before I leave…what have you heard of the…have you heard of any…disturbances?”

“What are you babbling about Libertine?”  the grey bearded man growled, still brandishing his stick.

 “There was a man, earlier…I think he was to have been crucified—”

 “So, that’s it!” the grey bearded man yelled. “You’re one of them.  You’re a disciple of Jesus of Nazareth.  No wonder you’re hiding like a little mouse!”

 “Of course I’m not a disciple of…of the Nazarene,” Stephen stammered. “I was in the crowd who… I just saw him carrying his cross through the streets earlier. I was only wondering—”

“You’re not fooling anyone,” the grey bearded man snarled. “They crucified the Nazarene and they’ll soon crucify you. Now, leave this place before I summon Herod’s guard!”

 Stephen turned and ran into the dimly lit street. He ran as quickly as he could, getting as far away from the menacing man as possible. He turned into an alley and sprinted through it, took another right and blasted into a crowded walkway knocking one man down and nearly toppling another. He rolled away and tumbled into a loud group of drunken Roman soldiers.

“Watch where you’re going pig!” one of the soldiers yelled, pulling Stephen up from the ground by his hair.

“You like spilling expensive wine do you?” Another soldier said, emptying his flask of wine over Stephen’s head.  Stephen folded, fell to the ground and felt a sharp kick to his ribs.

“Tent group!” a voice yelled from somewhere above him, “We have business!”

The Roman soldiers immediately moved away from Stephen.

“He ran right into us.” one of the soldiers said.

“That’s the truth.” said another.  “He came out of the alley and—”

 “I don’t care about that Hebrew!” The Roman Optio interrupted, glaring at Stephen. “The Governor wants us at Golgotha, now! Get rid of your wine before the Centurion sees it.”

 “But we’ve only just now purchased it,” one of the soldiers said.

 “All the better,” the Optio yelled. “You’ll be less drunk.  Now get rid of it!”

 The soldier shook his head, moved back, tipped his flask over and began spilling the rest of his wine over Stephen, still lying in the dirt. The soldiers standing nearby rocked with laughter.

 “At least it’s going for a good cause.” Another soldier yelled, moving in to pour his own wine over Stephen.

 “He is a follower of Jesus of Nazareth!”  A raspy voice yelled.

 The soldiers turned and looked behind them.

 “He has been hiding behind my house hoping to escape justice!”  the grey bearded man hollered. He’d obviously heard the commotion and came to investigate.

“What are you talking about old gray haired rat?” The Optio hollered, moving towards the grey bearded man.

“H-He was hiding behind my house,” the grey bearded man answered backing away.  “He said he was a follower of Jesus of Nazareth.”

The Optio turned away from the grey bearded man and moved back to Stephen, still lying in the wine soaked dirt.  He reached and pulled Stephen to his feet. “What do you have to say of this? Are you a follower of Jesus of Nazareth?”

  “No,” Stephen answered, “I don’t even know who that is—”

“He lies,” another man said, standing nearby. “I’ve seen him with Jesus’ followers.”

The Optio pulled Stephen’s face toward his. “I ask you again Hebrew, are you a follower of Jesus of Nazareth?”

 Stephen’s eyes filled with tears as he stared into the weathered eyes of the Roman Optio. “Yes,” he answered softly.

 “No more,” the Optio said evenly, “your leader is being crucified even as we speak.” The Optio shoved him away, turned and faced the soldiers. “Move!” he bellowed.

 To Stephen’s amazement the soldiers turned and disappeared into the crowded street. He whirled and ran in the opposite direction. He spun into another alley, leapt back into the shadows and fell to the ground sobbing.

He had publicly announced he was a follower.  The Sanhedrin knew. The Romans knew. His family knew.  Everyone knew he followed the Nazarene.  They crucified Jesus and now he was sure they’d come for him. 

A fresh wave of terror drove him to his feet. He numbly resumed his journey.

Why hadn’t the Romans taken him when they had the chance? Why did they let him go? He reached into his wine soaked clothing, pulled out a small flask, gulped down the rest of his warm water then pushed the flask back under his sash. Confused and unsure, he decided to try to make it to Golgotha.  He needed to know what was happening…if Jesus was really being crucified he had to see it for himself.

He carefully made his way through the city. As he slowly approached Golgotha he could see three crosses silhouetted against a darkening sky. Jesus was nailed to the center cross. He appeared to be dead. A small spark of hope surfaced as he noticed people milling around beneath the crosses.  They were people he knew were followers. Everyone knew they were followers of Jesus, mostly women, but there were a few men.  John was there.  John was one of Jesus’ most trusted disciples. 

Stephen felt a pang of self-loathing.  If only he were that brave, just once in his miserable life.  

Most of those beneath the cross were openly crying and wailing for Jesus… right in the presence of the Roman soldiers.  Could it be that this was the end of it?  Maybe they wouldn’t hunt him down after all.

He moved in closer, trying to blend in. Making it all of the way to the base of the center cross, he looked up into the eyes of the man hanging there.  He stepped back in horror as the tormented eyes slowly opened.  He gasped as Jesus’ eyes focused on him and then...Stephen’s heart seemed to stop.

Jesus softly smiled down on him.  The great eyes were filled with tears and pain, but still…ever so softly smiling.  Stephen’s eyes welled with tears as an inaudible moan rose up from his soul.  He stumbled backwards and fell to the ground.  It took him a moment to return to himself, but when he did, he knew he belonged body and soul to the man on the cross.

No longer afraid, he sat at the foot of the cross as Jesus asked God to forgive His tormenters. He witnessed Jesus asking His Father why He had forsaken Him.  He saw the Roman push a sword deep into Jesus’ side. He watched Him die and somewhere during the course of those heart crushing hours, Stephen reached into his clothes and retrieved the water flask he’d emptied earlier. From a crimson puddle within a stone crevice he carefully, lovingly, filled the flask with the blood of his Christ. This he would keep with him for the rest of his short life.

 

 

 

Chapter One

The Gathering

 

 

Dr. James Markus Donahue sat on the edge of a hard wooden stool working through the complicated process of identifying a sample recently shipped to his lab at MIT. In a few hours, he would notice how uncomfortable he was. For now, all his attention was focused on an area of DNA called the D1S80 Locus, an area of chromosome holding the varying sequence lengths used to identify unique genetic fingerprints. The phone rang.

“Yes?”

“Did you get it?” the voice on the other end asked.

“Of course I did.”

 “And?”

 “Wouldn’t know—someone’s annoying phone calls keep interrupting my work.”

 “Sorry, Jim, but this is very important.”

 “It had better be. Otherwise, I would’ve had a student run the test, like I usually do.”

“A team of students have already run the test—twice.”

“So…why am I doing it?”

“Because you never would have believed it otherwise.”

“Believed what? What are you into, Blaze?”

“I won’t bother you again,” the voice said, ignoring the question. “But please, call me as soon as you get the results. I can’t tell you how important it is. Oh, and remember— keep it under wraps.”

“Yeah, Blaze—under wraps. Gotcha.”

Donahue put the phone down and returned to his work.  He finished isolating, then digesting the plasmid DNA with the use of restrictive enzymes, then used electrophoresis to observe banding patterns on an agarose gel. Once he finished, he compared that sample with the sample Blaze had sent him the week before, reached for the phone and was surprised at how fast his friend picked up.

 “This is Father Jenkins.”

 “Yeah, Blaze, you’re right. The two samples match.”

 “You’re certain?”

 “No question about it. You gonna let me in on this?”

 “Absolutely, everything depends on it. Can you get away soon?”

 “I suppose I could—if it’s really important.”

 “Could you come here to Nashville as soon as possible? I have some people I want you to meet.”

“Okay,” Donahue answered. “I’ll try to make arrangements and, uh— let you know.”

“Thanks, Jim. You won’t regret it.”

Father Jenkins hung up, leaving Donahue staring at his phone.

 

 

UCLA pre-med student Todd Riley made his solitary way down a wide hall toward Bio 125—developmental biology. He could hear professor Julander droning out another vapid, mind-numbing lecture as he approached the big double doors.

“We’ll continue studying the evolution of complex mammalian systems…”

Julander’s voice echoed as Todd entered the spacious amphitheater. He scanned over the vanilla-colored desks descending in rows towards the center of the room. Professor Julander was speaking, pacing in front of a wide chalkboard, flanked by two dormant projector screens. Todd  struck out towards the first available desk.

“As you recall,” Julander droned, “last Wednesday we were discussing the evolutionary steps involved in the development of the mammalian eye.  Today we’ll talk about the evolutionary origins of the mammalian coagulation system.  That means blood clots for those of you who have been sleeping through class.”

 A few students politely giggled.

“Blood clotting is a highly delicate balancing phenomenon involving proteases,” the professor began writing on the chalkboard, “anti-proteases and protease substrates. So delicate a process—”

Todd accidentally banged his book bag on one of the chairs as he made his way to his seat interrupting Julander mid-sentence.

 Julander stopped speaking and glowered at Todd. “Having difficulty getting to class on time, are we Mr. Riley? This is the fourth time you’ve been late this month!”

“Sorry Prof—”Todd’s apology was interrupted by a rubber band bouncing off the back of his head, followed closely by suppressed laughter. “Sorry, Professor,” Todd continued undaunted, “my truck, the harmonic balancer. The bolt fell right out and since then I—”

Julander grunted loudly interrupting Todd.

Todd shrugged. “That’s… just why I’m always late—“

“Take a seat Mr. Riley,” Julander said evenly.

He waited for Todd to find a seat and stow his book bag, then turned back to the chalk board and continued. “Where was I—oh yes—at the site of a cut, a protein called Hageman Factor sticks to the surface of cells near the wound. Bound Hageman Factor is then cleaved to a protein called HMK to yield activated Hageman Fac—”

“Excuse me, Professor,” Todd interrupted, his baritone voice perfectly coupled with a distinct Oklahoma accent. “I’m sorry but I gotta’ call bullshit on this one.”

Julander, ignoring the sudden burst of laughter, stopped, slowly turned and stood staring. “You gotta’ call what, Mr. Riley?”

“Uh no,” Todd answered slowly, “What I mean is, I have a question.”

“Well, by all means, share it with us.”

“With respect Professor, I read this thing and … could you sort of go over this with us—be a little more specific?”

“Mr. Riley,” Julander groaned, “this is a university, not grammar school.  We simply do not have the time to enable tardy students who refuse to study.”

The class became quiet.  Students stared into their notes. 

Todd boldly continued. “The book mentioned that…” he glanced down at his notes, “tissue factor and prothrombin simply ‘appear’ as the result of duplication of another gene and it said that a thrombin receptor ‘sprung forth’ as a result of variously shuffling domains.”

“Figures of speech,” Julander interrupted, holding out the palm of one hand. “Would you rather the textbook had said they were created by the big man in the sky?”

“No,” Todd answered, “I just think it’s important to realize what would be involved when we’re talking about the duplication of gene pieces just noodlin’ up completely at random—”

“Noodling up, Mr. Riley?” Julander interrupted. “Why don’t you just noodle on up here and take over the class since you clearly have a nice little comedy sketch prepared?”

Julander’s expression quickly soured as Todd politely accepted and began moving towards the head of the class. He reached the big desk and turned to face the room. Julander rolled his eyes, folded his arms, and leaned back against the chalk board.

“Let’s just go over the probability of tissue plasminogen ‘springing forth,’’ Todd said. “To begin with, we would have to go through an enormous amount of useless, randomly shuffled domains before evolution could ever ‘spring fourth’ a protein with TPA activity. Kinda like two cars miraculously switching tires in a parking lot. Or maybe more like… a bicycle and car swappin’ tires. It’s pretty hard to believe it could happen once let alone millions of times. It’s like… gasoline engines shuffling magnetos until a starter motor ‘springs forth—”

“Auto mechanics is taught over in the trades building, Mr. Riley,” Julander interrupted again. “Let’s try to stay focused shall we?”

Todd sniffed, scratched his head and turned to look at Julander. “You’re not seeing parallels?” he asked.

“Well, of course not, Mr. Riley. For one thing, tires and… engines don’t have the ability to shuffle anything, whereas biological organisms do, one of the many perks of self-duplication. It’s already clear that I’ve allowed you to disrupt this class enough for one day—it’s time for you to return to your seat.”

Todd stared at the professor. “But sir, aint you even gonna try to answer my questions?”

“You’re not looking for answers,” Julander said. “We all know where you’re going with this. You want to talk about some sort of Supreme Being.”

“No, Professor,” Todd said. “I’m an atheist. I don’t believe in God, but with respect to the origins of life, I don’t think evolution is the answer either. I don’t think anyone in the know really believes that anymore.”

“Really?” Julander said. “I guess the entire scientific community, including yours truly, has been going down the wrong path all this time. We haven’t been, how did you say it, ‘in the know—’”

 “The Journal of Bioevolutionary Science has yet to publish a paper that has even come close to explaining evolutionary origins of highly specified systems!”

“Irrelevant!” Julander yelled.

“Relevant!” Todd yelled back, “I gotta say, Professor, it seems to me you’re the one clinging to some kinda’ old-time religion. The whole premise relies so much on faith you can’t possibly call it science!”

Julander began trembling. “Get out!” he screamed. “You are expelled from this class, do you hear me!”  His face was purple. Veins began forming on his neck and forehead.  “I’ve put up with your disruptive behavior but I’ll not take your disrespect…Get out,” he screamed again, “or I’ll have you removed!”

Todd glared at Julander, then gathered his things and walked out the door.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

At the end of the class, a small unhealthy looking girl sitting in the back of the room stowed her supplies in a backpack. She stood and made her way into the hall maneuvering through the crowd of students until she reached the lobby. Finding a payphone in the corner, out of the way of prying eyes and ears she dialed a number, then waited for a response.

“This is Father Millyard’s office. How may I help you?”

“Yes, this is Birdie Hardman. I was supposed to call Father Millyard if anything changed.”

“Okay, Birdie, I’ll put you through.”  Birdie’s short wait was cushioned with soft jazz music. Someone picked up. She pushed the long red hair away from her heavily freckled face.

“Hi Birdie. How’s school?”

“It’s been hard, Uncle Randy, but I know it’s worth it.”

“Yes, well, you’ve come this far through a very tough uphill climb. You’ll be our first doctor, and you’re making us all very proud.”

“Thank you, Uncle Randy.  I only hope I can live up to the family’s expectations—but—you asked me to keep an eye on Todd Riley.”

“Oh yes,” Father Millyard answered with renewed interest, “what happened?”

“He’s been expelled.”

“What?” 

“Whatever arrangements she has to make with him she’d better make soon,” Birdie continued, “Now that he’s been expelled, he’ll probably be leaving L.A. right away.”

“Are you sure you’re not just a little biased in your recommendation? It’s obvious you’re attracted to this young man.”

“No, Uncle Randy. I would never recommend anyone because of something as silly as that, especially for something as important as this.  Besides, Todd Riley wouldn’t notice me if I pinched him.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure of that,” Millyard mused.

“I can be sure of it, Uncle Randy. He belongs to Maria Rose. He’d do anything for her.”

“I hope so. She insisted he could be won over.  Without him, she wouldn’t meet the requirements.”

“I’m surprised the Vinces are allowing her that sort of leeway,” Birdie said softly.

“Yes, well, they seem to be quite taken with her.”

“What a surprise,” Birdie said. “What happens if he refuses?”

“I find that unlikely given young Miss Rose’s persuasive abilities. I guess if he does refuse, we’ll just have to cross that bridge.”

 

 

It was easy for Todd to say he didn’t care about school before the deed was done but now reality was rolling in like an Atlantic sea fog. How was he going to tell his father he’d been expelled?

It had been over two years since he and his mate Obie Baker left their home town of Muskogee, Oklahoma in search of an affordable state-of-the-art education. For them, that meant UCLA at Los Angeles, California. The loud confusion and clamor was daunting in the beginning but the two country boys soon found their niche.

For the most part, life at UCLA had been good to Todd. The ever-present alcohol fuddle, the friends who never had to go home and the endless supply of girls orbiting his crew but always gravitating to him… But that was before he met Maria Rose.

Since Maria Rose, life at UCLA had consisted of sleep, booze, pain and lonely crowded parties, all of which had already cost him four of his five classes. He had managed to cling to his developmental biology class but he wasn’t sure why. Truth of the matter was, since Maria, he’d been thinking about going back to Oklahoma, get a job for awhile, take it back to his roots.

Deep in thought, he found himself entering the parking terrace of his apartment building. It was already getting late. He found a spot and pulled in just as the sun was going down. Before he was able to open the pickup door, his cell phone sounded. “Talk to me!” he barked into the receiver, his deep voice resonating off the cement walls.

“Todd, what did you do?”

“News travels fast,” Todd answered.

“I wish I could have been there to see Julander’s face.”

“Obie, I’m sort of busy right now,” Todd said, stepping out of his truck. “Could I call you later?”

“Okay buddy, but I gotta tell ya, I got news you’re gonna wanna’ hear.”

“News about what?”

“Oh, it ain’t gonna be that easy, dude. I’m at Dub’s.  If you wanna get the news, you know where I’ll be.”

“Not tonight, Obie. I gotta talk to my dad and make some plans—”

“Two words Todd…I got two words for ya.”

Todd smiled. “Okay, Obie, what’re your two words?”

“Maria Rose.”

Todd stopped mid-step. “Maria? What about her?”

“Maria Rose is out asking around for one Mr. Todd Riley’s phone number.”

“Get out!”  Todd yelled.

“That’s right dude—she was here at Dubs a minute ago. She was looking for you— just barely left. She was asking for your phone number. Which was weird, man, cause I thought she already had it.”

“I changed it…long story. Who did she ask?”

“Dub’s…15 minutes.” The phone went dead.

Todd stared at it a moment, then sprinted back to his pickup.

The roads winding in and out of the busy UCLA campus were packed, but Todd was able to make the five miles to Dub’s Pub in less than 20 minutes. The moment Todd walked in the crowded bar, Obie was on him.

“Todd, TODD!” Obie hollered over the blasting rock band. “We’re over in the corner dude!”

Cody Fisher pushed a cold beer into Todd’s hand and slapped him on the back.  Denny and Tadpole were standing at a table motioning for him to join them.  Todd grinned and raised his beer, then slowly began making his way towards them.

“Way to put it to Julander,” a pretty girl yelled as he walked past.

“Todd the bro bra dudester!” Denny bellowed as Todd approached the table.  He offered the palm of his hand, and Todd soundly slapped it.

“You totally blew Julander’s mind away, my good man!” Tadpole yelled. “I wish I would’ve been in class today.”

“That would’ve totally blown Julander’s mind,” Denny said, grinning.

“What did you say to him?” Tadpole asked, ignoring Denny. “I heard he like, closed the whole class down when you left, dude.”

“I disagreed with him.” Todd answered.

“Yeah, well, you totally wasted his pompous ass. That’s the important thing.”

“What do you mean I wasted his ass? Julander is still a professor and I’m kicked out of school! Country toast… that’s what I am.”

Tadpole frowned and bobbed his head. “That’s true,” he said. “This blows, man. If I were you, I’d be gittin’ ripped, dude.”

“Obie…Obie!” Todd suddenly yelled over Tadpole’s shoulder. “What about Maria Rose?”

Obie broke conversation with a couple of roving sorority girls and moved to Todd’s side. “She said she wants your new phone number, dude. She wanted to know where you’re living now.”

“Who did she ask?”

“Emwaaa.” Obie answered, pushing a sloshing beer bottle against his chest.

“You?”

“Yeah, why not me?”

“I don’t know. Did she say why?”

“Not really.”

“You give her my number?”

“Sure I gave it to her.”

“You give her my cell number?”

“No, dude, you said to never do that.”

“You didn’t give Maria Rose my cell phone number?”

 Obie grinned stupidly, “Sorry, dude.”

 “So—did she say when she was gonna call?”

“No, she was in a hurry.  She… is… so… frickin’ hot, dude.”

“Yeah, tell me ‘bout it,” Todd said.

“Be back in a few,” the lead singer yelled from the bandstand. “Don’t go anywhere!” 

 The pub quieted and the group of students quickly huddled around the small table.

“Maybe she wants to get back with you, dude,” Tadpole said. “Maybe she’s sick of Jessie Espinosa again.”

“I’m not seein’ it,” Todd answered. “The dude’s a movie star.”

“He’s just another city pretty,” Obie said, “all hat and no cattle.”

Todd grinned and clicked his raised beer bottle against Obie’s.

“What was she like?” Denny asked, changing the subject.

“Dude—is she as good as she looks?” Tadpole asked.

“Wouldn’t know,” Todd said, staring into his beer.

“You keep saying that but, how could you not know?” Denny asked. “You two went out together for three months. How could you go out with a girl like that for three months and never have sex? Could you tell me that?”

“The opportunity never came up,” Todd answered, pulling his beer to his mouth.

“Why’d she call it off, dude?” Tadpole asked. “I thought you two were close as fingers.”

“She didn’t call it off. I did.”

“You?” Obie yelled.

“Yeah, me.”

 “Why? How come this is the first time I’ve heard of it?”

“I gotta go,” Todd said, putting his empty bottle on the table. “I’m here jackin’ around and Maria probably called already…”

 

 

By the time Todd reached his apartment building it was well past midnight. He pulled into his parking spot, stepped out of his truck, and stood looking back out into the parking terrace. He’d been watching the sleek, black Jaguar in his rearview mirror since leaving the village. Now it was parked on the road in front of his complex, its dark tinted windows gleaming in the moonlight. As he stood watching, the car slowly pulled out and began making its way up the drive towards him. Todd left his truck and moved out into the driveway. He dropped the bill of his cap shielding his eyes from the glare of the headlights as the car pulled up and stopped directly in front of him. He heard a door open, then close. Someone moved into the light.

“Maria,” Todd said. “What are you doing here?”

“Todd, I have to talk to you. It’s important.”

Suddenly the car backed up, stopped, then quickly pulled up beside them.“You sure this is what you want?” the driver asked, glaring at Todd.

“Jessie, please—just go,” Maria said softly.

Todd had seen the face in the car before. It was the face of Jessie Espinosa, star of the hit TV series Run and Batch magazine’s ‘world’s sexiest man.’

The driver shook his head. “Okay, that’s it then.” The tires squawked as the Jaguar jumped and sped away. It turned a corner and disappeared into the night.

Maria looked up at Todd. “Sorry,” she said.

Todd looked down into her dazzling green eyes sparkling in the soft moonlight.

“Was that—?”

“Yes… that was Jessie,” Maria interrupted.

“What’s going on? Have you been crying?”

Maria shrugged. “We broke up—it was a little ugly.”

Todd pulled his ball cap off and looked around the parking lot. He quietly rolled a pebble under his boot then looked back up at Maria. “You want to come in?” he asked.

Maria nodded and they made their way up the stairs and into Todd’s apartment. Todd motioned toward his old green couch and went to the fridge.

“Why?” he asked, returning with a soda. He took the easy chair directly across from her.

“Why what?”

“Why did you break up?”

Maria smiled softly and stared into her soda. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

“Try me.”

Maria shrugged. “We had a fight over…you.”

“Me?”

“Truth is Todd, I can’t stop thinking about you.”

Todd frowned.  “Who are you?” he asked.

“Todd,” Maria said, suppressing a smile. “Jessie knew I wanted to be with you; that’s why we broke up.”

“Okay,” Todd said. “Only Maria could get her movie star boyfriend to drop her off at her old boyfriend’s apartment.”

“This is important,” Maria said, “Stop changing the subject, especially since you’re leaving L.A. soon.”

“How did you know that?”

“I know you were expelled. I knew you wouldn’t stay here.”

“I ‘m not followin’.”

“Todd, I can’t live without you,” Maria said quietly. “I can’t let you leave without you knowing that.”

Todd stared at her for a moment then lifted his soda to his mouth. He took a long drink then looked back at her. “Maria” he said softly, “what are you doing?”

 “I want you to go to Nashville with me sometime next week to celebrate,” she answered. “It’s all on me.”

“Celebrate what?”

“Celebrate our getting back together.”

“What gave you the notion I wanted to get back together?”

“Todd,” she said, frowning like a little child, “I told you I wanted you, and that I can’t stop thinking about you. That’s what you said you needed from me—remember? What more can I say?”

“You could mean it,” Todd answered.

“I do. I do mean it.”

Todd eased out of the easy chair and moved towards the window. “Why Nashville?” he asked.

“I’m having tests run at Vanderbilt. I just thought, since we’re already there, we could take a few days—that is, if you want to come with me.”

“Testing you for what?”

“It’s a…medical thing.”

“You sick?” he asked, looking back at her.

“No, nothing like that. It’s just something I’m doing for extra credit. They’ve been testing me for months. They need me to go to Vanderbilt for this last test.”

Todd looked back out into the dark. He stood in silence for a time, then turned back. “What the hell,” he said. “I could use a vacation. When do you want to leave?”