"'One time,' Mike said, 'I was going along an upstairs hallway and I looked through a door: a little girl was sitting up in bed watching me. I didn't want to scare her--you know how they are, big eyes and all--so I went in and sat on her bed. I told her not to worry; I was just doing my job, looking for things at night. I told her that her job was to get a good sleep, have good dreams, and be ready to have a great day when she woke up. She settled back down and smiled, you know . . . I patted the bed and left. Some kind of bird let go with a giant scrawk, and I got the hell out of there, down over the lanai in back.' "'You're not going to believe this, Mike,' I said. I told him about the six foot bird cage in the atrium of that Kahala beach house and the little girl who stuck to her story." Alison bounced in her chair and clapped. "Good for her!" "That was twenty years ago," Joe said. "Mike got caught. The girl probably has her own children now." "You must tell her," Alison said. "She should know. The truth is important." Alison had a point. Joe had felt guilty about that before. "The house is still there," he said. "Maybe I'll see what happened to them." "If they've moved, maybe you could find out where and send a letter." "Aha," Joe said as dinner arrived. He had gone crazy and ordered steak. Alison bent over her scampi and inhaled deeply. "Garlic," she sighed. "Garlic!" They touched glasses again. Dark ruby light circled and glanced through his Cabernet Sauvignon. By dessert, Alison had told him that she was from a small town near Madison, Wisconsin, that her father had been an inventor, that her mother was still alive, aging and in need of care. "My father was hurt in an accident at work. I had to take care of him when I wasn't in school. My mother always had other jobs. He was strict. I couldn't go out like the other girls. I was taken in by our church; they gave me a scholarship." "So you went from home to the church life--and you never got married?" "Never met anyone willing, Joe. Anyone right, that is." She bent over the table and lowered her voice. "I'm a virgin--can you imagine?" "What!?" A head turned in their direction and Joe lowered his voice to match hers. "How on earth?" "I believe in the sacrament of marriage, Joe. Technically, I'm not a virgin because of something that happened a long time ago. But, actually, I am one." He blinked several times as she continued, "I had a boyfriend for five years. He was divorced. He was afraid of commitment, Joe." Joe took a large swallow of wine. "We used to fool around. Nothing below the waist," she added. "Gurmpph." He cleared his throat. No one seemed to be paying any attention. Alison was still leaning forward. His eyes were fixed on her swelling breast and the curve of black lace that rose and disappeared behind her blue-green blouse. "Coffee," Joe said. "We must have coffee."