daughter and keep her ecstatic at least until we're seventy years old. After that it depends on whether she lets our grandchildren overrun us or not.'
Mr. and Mrs. Joseph Duggan honeymooned in a log cabin on Lake Bemidji. On their first afternoon there they went out fishing, something Winn had never tried before. With typical beginner's luck she caught the only fish of the day-a seven-pound walleyed pike. Within an hour, when the lake provided no more action, she lost all interest in the sport and asked Joseph to head the boat back to the cabin. There, inside, Jo-Jo warned, 'Hands off, Killer, I have to clean the fish first.'
'Throw him away.'
'But he's such a big one.'
'I caught one big one. I can catch another…' Then she ran her hands down his body and giggled. 'Oh-oh! Here comes one now!'
But in the end Joseph cleaned the walleye, and by the time he finished it was time for dinner. They ate at The Seasons, then returned to their private retreat amid the lakeshore pines. When they faced each other at the side of their bed, Winn felt oddly timid. Joseph was dressed in cotton pajama pants and she in a long white nightgown with tiny satin straps and a bow beneath her breasts. Her cheeks were flushed and his eyes sparkly. His callused hand reached for hers and gave one gentle tug.
'Come here, Mrs. Duggan.'
She lifted her arms, and his closed about her, bringing their wispily clad bodies close. His neck smelled of the cedar after-shave she now knew so well. She closed her eyes against the warm skin there and slipped her fingers into his soft curls, cradling his head as her eyes drifted closed. 'Mrs. Duggan,' she repeated rapturously. 'I really am.' She backed away and found his eyes with her own. 'I'm Mrs. Joseph Duggan.'
He slipped one satin strap over a narrow shoulder. 'From now till you're at least seventy,' he replied with gruff tenderness.
Her fingers brushed the hair on his chest, trembling upon it. 'And then?'
The second strap fell slack as he pushed it down. 'And then…' His eyes dropped to the satin bow as his fingers freed it. The gown shimmied into an ivory puddle at her feet. Just before his lips and arms claimed her Joseph chided raspily, 'Don't ask foolish questions, my love.'
