[Tuesday, September 6, 2005]
I looked over at my girlfriend, Nancy, and smiled at her. "This has been a wonderful date," I told her. "You chose a really nice restaurant, but one that's not so fancy they forget about the food."
"I'm glad you like it, Jeff," she said. "It's always been one of my favorite places. But when do we get to do more on dates than go places and kiss and touch?"
"Patience, girl," I said. "Your 18th birthday is this Friday. After that you'll be legal and we can do more, if you want to. Until then, it's a crime for me to farther. But be sure you know what you're doing. Just because you'll be legal doesn't necessarily mean it's wise."
"I know," she said. "But we've been going out for 3 years now, and I'm a teenager with hormones. Girls have them too, you know, not just guys."
"I know that," I said. "But if you plan on going that far, I need to consult your mom and make sure she's cool with it BEFORE we take action."
"You sure are old-fashioned," she replied in a mock growl. "boys aren't supposed to think about how a girl's parents will react!"
I knew she was kidding. Her mom, Cindy, was a single parent, and Nancy was her only child. Besides, I had a really good relationship with Cindy before Nancy and I started dating, and wanted to make sure I didn't mess with it.
I returned with my girlfriend to her house at 9:30 p.m. sharp, just like I'd told Cindy. "Come in, Jeff," she said. "Did you two have a good time?"
She knew the answer, of course: Nancy and I had been best friends before we became boyfriend/girlfriend. We always enjoyed each other's company. I also enjoyed Cindy's company: she was a wonderful person with a fascinating life story.
She was in her early-to-mid 40's, slim, muscular, and incredibly intelligent. He had medium-length brown hair (Nancy's was the same color, just longer), deep brown eyes, and always had a smile on her face. Her happy personality was the only thing that had kept her sane.
Cindy was one of the best BSL-4 virologists in the world. This meant that she took her life in her hands every time she went to work. She had studied and worked with legends such as Karl Johnson, Jim LeDuc, and Tom Ksiasek, and had learned everything about the practical side 10 years before investigating the Ebola re-emergence in Africa. A year ago, she had semi-retired from CDC, but was still available if her skills were necessary.
As if that wasn't enough, she also had raised Nancy almost single-handedly. When her daughter was just 2 years old, Cindy's good-for-nothing (her words) husband had split for parts unknown with a woman Cindy had thought of as her best friend. He took with him $150,000 that had been in their joint checking account and her new car. Rumor had it that the two traitors had been killed in a speedboat accident a few years later, but Cindy, throwing herself into her work, hadn't really cared one way or the other. She hadn't dated since then – had sworn off men for a long while. I was her next-door neighbor growing up, and since I was 2 years older than Nancy, I acted as friend/babysitter for a while. As Nancy grew up, the friendship evolved and strengthened, and over time we just naturally became boyfriend and girlfriend. I spent many hours at Cindy's house and liked her for her devotion to her work and her ability to care for her daughter despite long hours in the office and sometimes weeks in the field.
"Of course we did," I said.
We sat down and spent until 10:30 chatting pleasantly, until it was time for Nancy to go to bed. As a senior in high school, she needed to be rested for classes the next day. I, too, had to leave, as I had classes at the local university. I had decided to follow Cindy into virology, which meant a lot of difficult subjects. But before I left, I informed Cindy that I needed to speak with her in private on Thursday.
[Thursday, September 8, 2005]
"What did you want to speak to me about?" Cindy asked.
