Chapter Seventeen

   They slept for two hours and, as sometimes happens, woke up about the
same time.  Neither seemed to feel like talking, but the tension was gone.
Lunch was quiet, too, but again, there was no strain.  Jennifer seemed a
little distracted, as though she was thinking so much that she forgot to
eat, once in a while.

   And, now that she had calmed down, it just seemed natural to go from the
restaurant to the hospital.  Jennifer walked into her parents' room and
went straight to her father.  She hugged him for a long minute and sat down
next to him, holding his hand.

   "Sorry," she said.

   His smile was warm and said everything that needed to be said.  Then she
looked over at her mother, who was watching interestedly, said, "Hi, Mom,"
and turned her attention back to her father.

   They talked quietly about whether there was anything they needed her to
do about insurance matters.  The hospital had called the company for them
and an agent had come over to see what was going on.  Don said everything
was all squared away, at least as far as the hospital was concerned.  He
knew less about the car, which he was sure was totaled and had been towed
somewhere.

   "What about your stuff?" the girl asked.

   "Not really worth worrying about," said Don.

   "It would be nice to have the cell phone," said Susan.  "And my purse."
She sounded mildly disgusted.  She found four or five other reasons why
retrieving their property from the car would be a good idea, including that
they'd need something to wear when they eventually got out of the hospital.
On a roll, she started to remember other things that needed to be taken
care of.  "Somebody needs to call your work and tell them what happened."

   Bob grinned wryly and told Don to make a list, while he took Jennifer in
search of the car.  They stopped first at the police station, where he
found out where the car had been taken.  Jennifer's driver's license got
her access to the car.  She stood staring at it for a long moment when they
first saw it.  She was amazed her parents had lived through the wreck at
all.  Some of the roof had been cut off and Bob pointed out the places
where the Jaws of Life had been used to pry bent metal apart.

   The impound lot attendant cheerfully forced the trunk open for them. 
Her parents' suitcases were almost obscenely unaffected by the crash.  Even
the cooler in the trunk still had sodas in it.  The lid was ajar, but
nothing had fallen out.

   Because all they had was the bike, it was obvious they would have to
make multiple trips to get everything back to the motel.  Jennifer decided
that both suitcases could be tied on the bike if one was lodged in the
queen seat and she could stay there looking for the cell phone, which had
not yet been located, while Bob ran the stuff back to the motel.

   When Bob got back from that run, he was met by a triumphant Jennifer,
whose clothes were stained and face was smudged.  She'd actually crawled
deep into the twisted wreckage to find the phone.  Some of the stains on
her shirt looked suspiciously like flecks of dried blood, but Bob didn't
say anything.

   Bob had brought back a backpack for small things.  They abandoned the
cooler, but kept the plastic bottles of soda, as well as a few odds and
ends Jennifer had found in the car while looking for the phone.  One of
those was the charger, which was still plugged into the cigarette lighter.
Another was a book she thought her mother might have been reading while
traveling.

   On the way back to the motel, Jennifer yelled in Bob's ear that the
impound lot guy had flirted with her.  She said it had made her feel good,
and Bob reached back to pat her leg.  Once back in the room, Bob turned on
the TV while Jennifer got ready to take a shower.  She bent over to go
through her mother's suitcase.

   "She and I can wear each other's clothes," she said.  "Now I have more
to choose from." She pulled out a blouse and slacks.  "Too bad you're so
much bigger than Daddy."

   Bob was channel surfing when he heard Jennifer's gasp of surprise.  He
looked over to see her holding up a lacy black something or other.

   "I can't BELIEVE this!" she squealed.  "I had NO idea my mother had any
slinky underwear!"

   "That's not underwear," said Bob.  "That's a playsuit."

   "What?" Jennifer looked confused.

   "She doesn't wear that under anything," he said.  "She wears it to play
with your father."

   "Play with my father?!" Then she got it and her face flamed bright red.
"Ewwwwwww, I can't even THINK of that!  Mom and Dad?!  No way!"

   "Come on," said Bob, grinning.  "Where do you think YOU came from?"

   "OK, yeah," said Jennifer.  "Maybe back then, but now?  On THIS trip?"

   "Why not on this trip?" he asked.  "Weren't you just complaining that
you were going to want to make love with me and I'd need Viagra?"

   "That's different!" she said.

   "Is it?"

   She ignored him, stuffing the teddy back in the suitcase, and then went
into the bathroom.  He noticed she didn't invite him to "help," but it
didn't bother him.

   When she came out she looked like a different woman.  He was so used to
seeing her in jeans and a T shirt that the maroon blouse and tan slacks
made her look older somehow...more sophisticated.

   "You look good," he admired.

   "Thank you," she smiled.

   She put things in the backpack to take to her parents and they returned
to the hospital, where they spent the rest of the day, eating in the
hospital cafeteria while Don and Susan were served in their room.  Again,
the women kept their heads close together and talked quietly while the men
watched whatever they could find on TV that wouldn't bore them to tears.

   ===================================

   They got back to the motel around nine.  As they walked into the room
Bob asked, "So...did you ask your mom about her playsuit?"

   Jennifer slapped at his arm.

   "Of course not," she said.  "I couldn't possibly talk to her about
something like that."

   "I thought she wanted you to describe everything we did together," he
said.

   "She did," said Jennifer.  "But that was about us, not them.  Ewwwww,
Bob!"

   Bob shook his head, sure that if he knew this woman another ten or
eleven years, he still wouldn't understand how her thought processes
worked.

   Jennifer put one hand on her hip.  "So...where are you going to sleep
tonight?"

   He looked at her, his gaze level.  "In the bed."

   "You can't," she said.  "That's where I'm going to sleep."

   "Now, all of a sudden we have to have separate beds?"

   "If we sleep together I'm going to want to make love," she said.

   "What a shame." He grinned.

   "You can't have any sex for a month," she said, quite seriously.

   "Then we won't make love."

   She stared at him for a long minute.

   "You really think you could do that, don't you." It was a challenge.

   "Of course I could do it," he said.  "I TRIED to do it the whole trip,
if you'll recall."

   "That didn't work out all that well, now did it?" she asked
belligerently.

   "Are you trying to start another fight?" he asked, smiling.

   "Of course not," she said.  "But you shouldn't be able to control
yourself if you really love me like you say you do."

   "Where did THAT come from?" he laughed.  "Jennifer, my sweet, I DO love
you, and I'll prove it by honoring your prohibition for the whole
month...longer if that's what will make you happy."

   "I just TOLD you I'm not happy!" she said, her voice rising.  "I'm
horny! Your stupid bike ALWAYS makes me horny!"

   "You're the one who made up the rule," said Bob.  "I believe that gives
you the authority to rescind it."

   "THAT'S not going to happen, buster!" she said firmly.  "You have to be
punished.  I can't just let you get away with stealing my virtue by using
the same machine you used on all those OTHER women!"

   "OK, then," said Bob.  "What I think we have here is a failure to
communicate.  Sweetheart, I need you to understand in no uncertain terms
that you've ALREADY punished me, you are punishing me NOW, and I fully
expect you to KEEP punishing me for twenty-nine more days.  I am INTIMATELY
aware that I'm being punished.  OK?"

   She seemed to dither silently for a few seconds and then stomped one
foot and said, "Good!"
