“Don’t talk about Marcie as if she didn’t have a brain in her head,” Laura said. Jack smiled. “You _are_ in love,” he said. “This is serious. She has a few brains, Mother, she just doesn’t use them.” “She’s not stupid,” Laura defended her eagerly. “She’s not sacred either.” “I didn’t mean that.” “Oh, yes you did. I thought Burr was once.” “Burr?” Laura stared at him. “Did you—were you—” “Nuts for Burr? Yes. Once. When I first met him.” “What happened?” “Nothing. Thank God. I got over it. I go for big virile sons of bitches, just like Marcie. But I take care not to room with them anymore.” Laura shook her head, a wry little smile on her face. “Don’t you ever fall for the gay ones?” “I try to make a point of it.” He grinned sadly. “Unfortunately I sometimes miss the point. If you know what I mean.” “I’m not sure.” “It’s just as well. I met Burr at work when he was hired about four years ago. I knew he was straight.” “What’s ‘straight’?” “Everything that’s not ‘gay’—so I pussyfooted around the issue. I made him like me. I did his homework for him. I made him laugh. I told him what to tell the boss. I double-dated with him and Marcie and I was an usher at the wedding. I was Number One trouble-shooter _after_ the wedding. He thinks I’m indispensable.” “But you—you don’t still—” “No, I don’t. Not anymore. But I still like to be with him. I like to watch them fight.” He smiled at her. “You do too.” She felt embarrassed, as if he were looking through her clothes to her naked feelings. “However,” he went on, “I’m not under any lovely illusions about him being an intellectual giant. Or Marcie either. And I know damn well he won’t give me a tumble if I just stick around long enough.” He gave her a piercing look. “Those are your illusions, Mother,” he said. “I suggest you drown them.” “What does that mean?” “You can set Marcie’s hair till the moon turns blue and she’s not going to crawl into your bed to thank you for it.” “I don’t expect her to.” “Sure you do. It’s a mark of our breed. We’re hopeless optimists. Otherwise we’d all commit suicide. We get a crush on somebody, and if he’s straight we figure we’ll just love him so much he’ll _have_ to turn gay. It doesn’t work that way. Marcie isn’t going to start kissing you just because you want her to.” Laura was incensed. “She already has,” she snapped. Jack’s eyebrows went up. “When?” he said. “The night we got back from The Cellar. She said she felt funny in there with all those girls staring at her. She said she used to touch tongues with a girl when she was in her teens, and she wanted to do it again. And she did. You—you—” She didn’t know what to call him. “You had to call me up right in the middle, just when I thought—” She stopped herself. “Oh, this isn’t like me,” she moaned. “I never talk like this.”