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door.
    “Hi, Mom,” Jonathan voiced with a little self-conscious wave.
    Nancy Sellers’s bright, intelligent eyes jumped back and forth between her seventeen-year-old son and this rather sexy college-age woman. She knew his interest in girls had suddenly mushroomed, but this situation seemed a wee bit inappropriate.
    “Are you going to introduce me to your friend?” Nancy asked.
    “Yeah, sure,” Jonathan said, eyeing the crack in the sidewalk. “This is Miss Winthrope.”
    Cassy leaned forward and stuck out her hand. “Nice to meet you, Mrs. Sellers. You can call me Cassy.”
    “Cassy it is then,” Nancy replied. She shook Cassy’s outstretched hand. There was a short but awkward pause before Nancy asked how long Cassy and Jonathan had known each other.
    “Mommmm!” Jonathan moaned. He knew instantly what she was implying, and felt mortified. “Miss Winthrope is a student teacher in English class.”
    “Oh, I see,” Nancy remarked with mild relief.
    “My mom is a research virologist,” Jonathan said to change the subject and help explain how she could say something so stupid.
    “Really,” Cassy said. “That’s certainly an interesting and important field in today’s world. Are you at the University Med Center?”
    “No, I’m employed at Serotec Pharmaceuticals,” Nancy said. “But my husband is at the university. He runs the physics department.”
    “My goodness,” Cassy said. She was impressed. “No wonder you have such a bright son here.”
    Over the top of the Sellerses’ van Cassy caught sight of Beau turning into the horseshoe drive.
    “Well, nice meeting you,” Cassy said to Nancy. Then turning to Jonathan she said: “Thanks again for today.”
    “It was nothing,” Jonathan insisted.
    Cassy half skipped, half ran up to where Beau had pulled to the curb.
    Jonathan watched her go, mesmerized by the motion of her buttocks beneath her thin cotton dress.
    “Well, am I giving you a ride home or not?” Nancy questioned to break the spell. She was becoming concerned again that there was something going on she didn’t know about.
    Jonathan climbed into the front of the car after carefully depositing his laptop on the backseat.
    “What was she thanking you for?” Nancy asked as they pulled away. She could see Cassy getting into a utility vehicle driven by an attractive male her own age. Nancy’s concerns melted again. It was tough raising a teenager: one minute proud, the next concerned. It was an emotional roller coaster for which Nancy felt unequipped.
    Jonathan shrugged. “Like I said, it was nothing.”
    “Good grief,” Nancy said, frustrated. “Getting even a modicum of information from you reminds me of that saying about squeezing water out of a rock.”
    “Gimme a break,” Jonathan said. As they drove past the black 4×4 he stole another glance at Cassy. She was sitting in the vehicle, talking with the driver.
    “YOU LOOK TERRIBLE,” CASSY SAID. SHE WAS TWISTED IN the seat so she could look directly into Beau’s face. He was paler than she’d ever seen him. Perspiration stood on his forehead like tiny cabochon topazes. His eyes were red and rheumy.
    “Thanks for the compliment,” Beau said.
    “Really,” Cassy said. “What’s the matter?”
    “I don’t know,” Beau said. He covered his mouth while he coughed. “It came on me just before my marketing class, and it’s getting worse. I guess I got the flu. You know, muscle aches, sore throat, runny nose, headache, the works.”
    Cassy stretched out her hand and felt his sweaty brow. “You’re hot,” she said.
    “Funny because I feel cold,” Beau said. “I’ve been having shivers. I even got into bed, but as soon as I was under the covers, I felt hot and kicked them off.”
    “You should have stayed in bed,” Cassy said. “I could have bummed a ride with one of the other student teachers.”
    “There was no way to get in touch with you,” Beau said.
    “Men,” Cassy voiced as she got out of the car.