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felt like I couldn’t talk. Like I had a gym sock on my tongue.”
    “Are you okay?” Brooks asked.
    “I think so. I think Tim slipped something in my beer.”
    “That jerk,” I said, only I used a stronger word than “jerk.” We eased her into the backseat of the BMW. “Do you want some water or something? Are you sure you’re all right?”
    Shea shook her head. “I’m okay. I dumped the beer when I noticed it tasted funny.”
    “We’ll drive you home,” Brooks said. “Where do you live?”
    “In Lutherville,” Shea said.
    Lutherville was not on our way home, but Brooks didn’t seem to mind. I didn’t mind either. I like driving down the dark, winding roads out in the country at night. There’s something romantic about it—even with a drunk girl passed out and snoring in the backseat. Maybe especially then.
    “It was nice of you to come to Shea’s rescue,” I said to Brooks.
    “Ilsa’s always doing that, trying to psychoanalyze girls in the middle of a party.” He didn’t look at me, just kept his eyes on the road. “It’s not right.”
    “They’re both jerks,” I said. “Ilsa and Dr. Gornick.”
    “I used to wish my parents were cool like Dr. Gornick,” Brooks said. “But now I’m glad they just stay on their side of the fence. Who wants your dad singing classic rock at your parties? I don’t care if he does supply half your friends with Valium.”
    “Dr. Gornick gives kids Valium?”
    “That’s what Tim Drucker says.”
    We drove in silence for a few miles while the dark wooded road morphed into a commercial strip. “Do you have any idea where we’re going?” I asked.
    “No. Better wake up Shea and ask her.”
    I shook Shea gently. “Hey, Shea, how do we get to your house?”
    She groaned and opened her eyes and dragged herself up to a sitting position. She stared out the window as if she didn’t recognize this landscape at all. But she did.
    “Turn left on York Road,” she said. “Then left on Othoridge.”
    She slumped back down on the seat. When we stopped in front of her house she tumbled out the door, muttering, “Thanks, guys,” and stumbled toward the ranch house. We lost her for a minute on the lawn, but then she reappeared in the pool of light on the porch. The door opened and she vanished into the world beyond it.
    We headed back to the city, a good twenty-minute drive. I didn’t know what to say to Brooks so I turned up the radio.
    When we got to my house he kissed me on the cheek. He didn’t try anything else, and I didn’t expect him to. He is a well-known gentleman, and I must admit, Almighty, he deserves his good reputation. I sometimes suspect that he’s extra-carefularound me, though, since anything that happens between us is sure to get back to you and Mamie.
    “Thank you for coming to the lamest dance ever with me,” he said.
    “I forgot all about the dance,” I said. “Seems like months ago.”
    “We only stayed for five minutes. I think we set a record.”
    “Well. Thanks for a nice evening.”
    “Let’s do it again sometime, Norrie. Soon.”
    “Okay.”
    He got out of the car and went around to open the door for me. Then he walked me up the concrete path to our front door. He kissed me on the cheek again.
    “Well, ciao ,” he said.
    “ Ciao ,” I said. I don’t know how to say anything else in Italian except abbondanza ! And that didn’t seem appropriate.

SEVEN
    THE NEXT NIGHT WAS MY FIRST DATE WITH ROBBIE. THAT WAS A busy weekend.
    I met Robbie at the Charles Theater at seven. He didn’t need to buy tickets because he works there as a projectionist and curates the Vintage Film Series.
    I noticed on the poster that the Hitchcock movie we were about to see was part of the Vintage Film Series. “So it was your idea to show Vertigo tonight?” I said.
    “Uh-huh. We’re doing twelve straight weeks of Hitchcock.”
    We went inside to buy popcorn. The girl behind the counter cooed, “Hi, Robbie,” and gave us the popcorn and