characteristics, and scrolled through the ads.
'Are these sites all like this?' Becky asked.
'According to Jeff Vialpando what we're seeing is fairly typical,' Ramona said.
'Who is Jeff Vialpando?' Becky asked. She was always interested when Ramona mentioned the name of a new man, especially now that she'd broken up with her live-in boyfriend, whom Becky had never really liked anyway.
'He's an APD vice sergeant,' Ramona said.
'And?' Becky asked, searching her sister's face.
Ramona smiled. 'And, nothing. At least not yet. We're having lunch tomorrow.'
'I'll want to be told everything.'
Ramona nodded. 'Don't I always?' She switched from the adult personals and started in on the list of love and relationship sites, which were much more mundane and rather like classified personal ads that ran in newspapers. Most consisted of blurbs describing how interesting the women were, and their laundry lists of desired traits in a man. Some wanted friendship only, others were looking for soul mates, and a few sought intimate encounters, cyber sex-whatever that was-or E-mail pen pals.
'It's just an Internet meat market,' Becky said with a groan, getting out of her chair.
'Seen enough?'
'More than enough,' Becky said. 'There's something so sad about it all.'
'There are desperately lonely and needy people out there,' Ramona said.
'I'm going back to the real world,' Becky said as she picked up a thick manila folder from the desk. 'I've got papers to grade.'
Ramona stopped scrolling and gave her sister an apologetic look. 'I've stolen your space.'
'I'll use the kitchen table.'
Becky left, and Ramona returned her attention to the screen. Time passed. Through the open door she heard Becky's footsteps. She turned to find her sister in her pajamas with a toothbrush in her mouth. It brought up the memory of Becky wandering through their parents' house every night just before bedtime, brushing her teeth and being ordered back to the bathroom to complete the job. No parental chiding ever stopped her behavior, and by the time Becky was a teenager their mother had given up trying.
Becky took the toothbrush out of her mouth and said good night. Ramona smiled in response, called up an ad for Sultry Sally, and clicked on the photo icon. A picture of Sally Greer in a scoop top that showed a lot of cleavage appeared on the screen. Ramona read the accompanying narrative. Hi, I'm Sally. I'm not looking for a serious relationship yet, and I like older men who enjoy the company of a playful, sexy lady. If you enjoy adventurous dates with a woman who isn't afraid to be honest about her desires, e-mail me. You should be intelligent, discreet, affluent, honest about your needs, and willing to show your appreciation for the time I spend with you. I hope to hear from you soon! Oh, by the way, I love to travel!
The ad was new and the photograph looked very much like the work of Thomas Deacon.
Greer had included an Internet address for her personal Web site where visitors could view a photo gallery with new pictures recently posted. Ramona called it up and smiled as two photos she'd seen at Deacon's studio appeared on the screen.
She perused the gallery. There were photos of Greer wearing a summer frock and smiling over her shoulder, on a bed with a long cocktail dress hiked up to show a bit of thigh, and sitting in a chair with legs crossed and a smoky look on her face.
One shot showed Greer and the woman who'd been in the hotel bar with the two men. Both wore short dresses and high heels and stood arm in arm smiling at the camera. The caption read: THIS IS MY FRIEND STACY. WE LOVE TO DOUBLE-DATE!
Ramona printed out copies of everything and stuck them in her briefcase. Jeff Vialpando had written his home phone number on the business card he'd given her. She thought about calling him to ask if he'd be willing to respond to Greer's ad, and decided the hour was late and it could wait until morning.
Pleased with her progress, Ramona shut down the computer, yawned, and undressed in the small guest bedroom. Sally Greer was a working girl, no doubt about it. How that tied into Bedlow's modeling agency-if it did at all-was a question yet to be answered. She fell asleep anticipating her lunch date with Jeff Vialpando.
Clayton got up early and fixed breakfast for Grace and the kids. They sat around the table making small talk. Using her finger Hannah showed Clayton two different ways to make the letter A, drawing each letter carefully in the air. Very seriously she explained that one was big and the other was little.
'What do those letters do?' Clayton asked.
'Make words,' Hannah replied happily.
'Tell me an A word.'
'Apache,' Hannah said with a broad grin, poking herself in the chest. 'That's me.'
'You're a very smart girl,' Clayton said.
Hannah nodded in agreement. 'I have two a's in my name. Little ones.'
'Who taught you all this?'
'Mommy,' Hannah said. 'I'm gonna learn all my letters.'
From across the table, Wendell smirked at his sister. 'What comes after A?' he asked.
Hannah lifted her chin in Wendell's direction. 'You,' she answered.
'That's wrong,' he said with authority.
'B for boy, boy, boy, boy,' Hannah chanted from her high chair as her feet tapped against the underside of the table. 'And C is for Daddy's name.'
Clayton grinned at Grace. 'I think she's going to be as smart as you.' Perhaps, when the time came to give Hannah her Apache name, he would ask for her to be called Bright Girl. That would be perfect.
Grace smiled back. 'Smarter, I hope. She wanted to wait up for you last night, so she could tell you what she'd learned. I had to make her go to bed.'
'Does my mother know of this wonderful achievement?' Clayton asked.
'Hannah told her over the phone last night. Grandmother was very proud.'
Hannah nodded in agreement.
Grace's expression turned thoughtful.
'What is it?' Clayton asked.
'Something your mother told me after Hannah got off the phone. She once asked Kerney what he would have done if he'd known about you from the beginning. He said he felt he'd missed out on something important, and even against her wishes he would have wanted you to know him as your father.'
'But that didn't happen,' Clayton said evenly.
'Hannah would like to tell her grandfather what she has learned,' Grace said.
Hannah nodded her head vigorously.
'Whose idea was that?'
'Your mother's,' Grace replied. 'But I agree with her completely.'
'So, are you going to call him so Hannah can recite her ABCs?' Clayton asked.
'We thought you should do it,' Grace replied.
Clayton considered it, or pretended to. 'I don't think he wants to talk to me.'
'Perhaps,' Grace said, 'but he might enjoy talking to Hannah and Wendell.'
Wendell kept his head down, eyes fixed on his plate. For the motormouth he'd become, he was unusually quiet.
'Would you like to talk to your grandfather?' Clayton asked his son.
'I drew a picture for him,' Wendell said with a slight nod.
'Let me see it.'
Wendell brought him the drawing. It showed Kerney and Wendell standing together against a backdrop of mountains with the sun high in the sky. Wendell had carefully colored the sun yellow, the sky blue, and the mountains green, and lettered his name and the word grandfather, badly misspelled, under the feet of the crude figures. Both were smiling.
'It's a very nice picture,' Clayton said, rubbing his son's head and smiling at Hannah. 'We'll call your grandfather tonight, when I get home from work.'
