I was trying to spend a little more time away from him than I had before Thanksgiving. I was beginning to worry that the relationship was becoming... consuming. I wasn't ready to have myself defined in regards to someone else. I had been 'Rosa's daughter' and 'Carl's little girl' for so long, that I wanted a chance to be just Emily Benoit, not someone's girlfriend.

Things were a little different between us after the retreat, though I'm not exactly sure how to describe it. After I punched Addie out, I would have thought that would have assured Thomas about how I felt, but he seemed even more insecure. There was a sad, anxious air about him all the time now. People noticed it. The class discussed him on a regular basis.

At lunch one day in mid-December, Larry remarked, "I never thought I'd say this, but I feel sorry for the dude. Somethin' is eating him up inside."

Loraine Bergen nodded in agreement. "Yeah, he's just TRAGIC all the time. Doesn't even snap at anyone anymore. I almost miss that. I mean, at least when he did, you knew he was paying attention. Now, he's off in his own little world. He was doing so much better there for awhile. Do you think he, like, went off some medication, or something? What do you think, Emily?"

"I think the cafeteria is cutting their cake into smaller pieces. Look at that. I know for a fact that I had a piece at the beginning of the semester that was one-third bigger."

"Wow, as an evasion, that was about as graceful as an elephant in combat boots," grinned Larry. "C'mon, Emmie, what's your views on the Langely front? You have the most extensive experience dealing with him in his different stages this semester."

I gave him a stare. "And this is supposed to mean?"

He blinked, holding up his hands, palms outward, in a show of appeasement. "Hey, nothing at all. Just that he... um... interacted with you strongly, right from the start. So you'd be best qualified to comment on the changes."

"That's IF I was inclined to gossip." I pushed the piece of cake away. "I think I'll have to get a box for that and take it home." They exchanged glances. Me leaving food was unusual enough to be remarked. I didn't want any extra attention, but I just didn't have the appetite for it right then. Another reason to be irritated with Langely, right?

When someone interfers with your eating habits, it's time to give the relationship some serious thought, but that was EXACTLY what I DIDN'T want to do. I wanted to just keep my head down, possibly far enough down to bury it in the sand.

Kurt wasn't helping things any. That same afternoon he said, "Emmie, why don't you invite Thomas over for the evening? I feel like cooking. I can make some nice wiener schnitzel and a strudel."

"I don't like hot dogs, Kurt."

He rolled his eyes. "I will forgive you for your culinary ignorance because I love you. Wiener schnitzel is breaded veal cutlets, with lemon, capers, and anchovies."

"Kurt! You mean to tell me that you'd eat a poor baby calf that had been take from it's mama and been raised in a teeny stall on a restricted diet for no other purpose than to be slaughtered?"

I was bullshitting, and he knew it. "Yes, Emmie. And then I'd tan its little hide to make a new leather vest. What's wrong with you? You're not that picky an eater, and you love your kitties, but could care less about the cows. You're looking for a reason to beg off, aren't you?"

"I don't need to look for a reason, Kurt. I'm a grown woman, I can choose the company I keep. If you want to ask Langely over, fine. I had planned to go out for a pizza, anyway." Liar, liar, pants on fire!

I wasn't fooling him, he knew how I felt about his cooking. But he let it pass. "Very well, though I believe you are acting very foolishly. Snip, snip, again."

"Thank you ever so for that pithy observation. What time will he be over?"

"I'll need to see if he can come, first." I got a soda and sat at the kitchen table, pretending I wasn't listening to him on the phone, and not fooling him any better than I had been. "Thomas? Hello, it's Kurt. Yes, fine thank you. Yes, she's well, also. Mhm. Mhm." I could feel his eyes boring into my back. "I've noticed that. I think it's time we had a serious discussion. Come over for supper tonight. I'll cook. No, I'll make dessert. You can bring wine, if you like. Veal. Yes." A pause. "No, she says she's going out." Another pause. "I know that, Thomas, but it won't do any good to try and persuade her, you know how stubborn she is. Yes, I'm sorry. About eight, then. Good-bye."

He hung up, and began gathering utensils and ingredients. "I'll start the strudel now. The pastry is a real bitch to make if you want to get the proper number of layers." I thought I was going to escape any more rangling about the Langely situation, but as he was sifting flour, Kurt said quietly, "You're being very cruel to him, Emily. Was his faux pah at the retreat really worth ruining such a lovely relationship?"

I took an irritated gulp of soda, narrowly escaping aspirating some of it. "I don't know what you're talking about. It's just sex, Kurt. We've had sex since I got back."

"But you're not as close to him as you were, Emmie. You were hardly home at all in the last few weeks, except to change clothes. It was almost like having the place to myself. I missed you, of course, but you seemed so happy. Now..." He shook his head. "You're closing yourself off again. You're almost like you were when I first moved in."

I got up and threw the can in the trash angrily. "Well, thank you."

He frowned. "That's not how I meant it, and you know better, Emily. You're being deliberately oblique about this."

I took a deep breath. "Kurt, you're a sweetheart, and you're a good friend. But this is none of your business, okay? I'm talking deep, dark, and personal here. Let it go. I don't like being pushed."

He wiped his hand on a towel, studying me. "You're a sweetheart, too, Emmie. Pig-headed sometimes, but a sweetheart."

I curtsied. "Thank you again, kind sir."

"A true friend tells you these things."

""Cause they know you won't smack 'em upside the head. Fix your pastry, Kurt, and leave my personal life alone, okay? And I'll expect you to SAVE me some of that."

"You could always come back in time to have dessert and coffee with us."

"I don't think so."

He grunted, and went to the phone again. "What now?"

"I need to see if my friend Alec has a few ingredients." He punched buttons rapidly. "Hello, Alec? Yes, I know. Yes. I was calling to see if you could bring me some lemon and a few capers? Oh, I'll need them around, say, six-thirty. That's exactly right. Thank you." He hung up and went back to his pastry. "Get me the butter, would you, Emmie?"

I took a pound of sweet butter out of the refrigerator, and said, "Hey, Kurt. You bothered your friend for nothing. We have capers and lemons."

"Do we? Well, I'll call him in a few minutes and tell him not to bother. I have flour all over my hands right now."

It wasn't too long before the sweet smell of baking strudel was making a pressing argument for my changing my mind and staying for dinner. I fought it down. I was determined to be gone when Thomas arrived. I was trying to spend only a bare minimum of time with him outside of class, trying to wean both of us a little off what seemed to be becoming a mutual dependency. I didn't want it, and if I didn't want it, he couldn't have it.

Kurt had the veal chops soaking in milk at six-thirty and was taking the strudel out of the oven when the doorbell rang. "Damn! I forgot to call Alec back. Well, as long as he's here, he may as well come in for a drink. Let him in for me, would you, Emmie?"

"Sure." I put down the paper I had been reading. I had decided to go to a movie after eating pizza. I wanted to get back late, so that I'd be sure to miss Langely.

It didn't work out that way. He was standing on the front steps when I opened the door. He gave me a shy smile. "Hello, Emily."

I crossed my arms. "Thomas. You're a little early, aren't you?"

He looked at his watch, expression perplexed, and shook it. "Am I? My watch must be running fast."

"As much as you spent on it, I'd raise hell with the jeweler."

Kurt came up behind me, putting his hands on my shoulders. "Emmie, are you going to keep my guest standing on the steps all night?"

I moved aside to let Thomas in. "You don't see too dreadfully surprised to see him an hour and a half early, Kurt."

He shrugged. "A good host takes things in stride, Emmie."

I snorted. "Alec, my butt."

"Yes, I'm sure Alec would very much like your butt, if he wasn't out of town right now. I see that Thomas has brought wine." Thomas handed the bottle over when Kurt held out his hand. He didn't take his eyes off me. "Mm, a very nice rose'. I'll put this in the refridgerator to chill. Emmie, will you keep Thomas entertained while I go finish supper?"

"No," I said firmly. "I will not, you devious Teutonic matchmaker. I said I was going out, and I am. I just have to miss my bath because of your little stunt."

Langely looked up hopefully. "You can still have your bath, Miss Emmie. I'd like to give you a bath."

I was suddenly very tempted We hadn't done that before. The thought of sitting in a deep tub of steamy water, surrounded by bubbles while Thomas gently scrubbed my back, and my front, and everything else, was very seductive. I shook my head. "Some other time. Maybe."

Kurt made a noise of disgust, and went into the kitchen. I got my purse off the couch, and prepared to leave. But as I was walking toward the door, Thomas slowly sank to his knees, bowing his head humbly in the submissive's pose. I stopped before him, sighing. "What is it, Thomas?"

"Am I still your boy, Miss Emmie?"

I twitched at the miserable doubt in his tone. "Thomas, have I said anything about letting you go?"

"No, Miss Emmie. But you're very good at saying things without speaking a word."

"I don't want to get rid of you, Thomas. I... I'm very fond of you. But you seem to be putting so much... Too much into this."

"I can't help it. I love you. Don't you love me?"

I winced. "I care about you."

"That isn't the same. You care about the students in class. You care about Kurt. You care about your cats. I need for you to love me."

Very quietly, I said, "I don't know if I can, Thomas. I think you're asking for something I don't have to give."

"Couldn't you try? I think you could love me, if you'd let yourself. If you'd let me closer."

I rubbed my face. "Langely, we're already lovers."

He looked up into my face. "Let me make love to you, Emily."

And I knew what he meant. We'd had sex countless times. We'd even done what I counted as making love, being so careful of each other's pleasure and needs. But he wanted the ultimate, the final. The end that most vanilla dreams center around. He wanted to be the one to take my virginity.

My last hold out.

"I can't, Thomas. And you have to stop asking me, or I WON'T be able to be with you."

He looked stricken. "You're going to deny me even the hope?"

I wanted to scream, cry, or laugh: I wasn't sure which. All early life, I had been more or less ignored by men, by even the most ordinary, the least desirable. Now here I was, over forty, and I had a gorgeous, sexy man literally grovelling at my feet, begging to be allowed to pleasure me in the most intimate manner possible.

And I was turning him down.

Maybe I was wrong. Maybe my Mama DID raise a fool. "I tell you what, Langely. If vaginal sex is THAT important to you, I give you permission to do it with someone else. Pick someone and get it out of your system."

It was like slapping a child. Tears welled up in his eyes. Kurt had come back into the living room just in time to hear that exchange. He went to Thomas, putting an arm around his shoulders comfortingly.

I expected him to snap my head off, but the look he gave me was sorrowful. "That was cruel, Emmie. And unworthy of you."

"You don't understand, Kurt."

"I understand, Emmie. Better than you imagine. Now, go to your movie and dinner... alone." He gave Langely a squeeze as he huddled down on the floor. "Thomas and I have a lot to discuss tonight."

I would never have thought of Kurt as devious before that night. But it seemed that in the name of helping a friend, he was willing to do things that weren't normally in his nature. I hesitated. I really didn't like the sound of that last statement.

But I couldn't stay in the same room with the wounded Langely and still keep my sanity, so I left.

I had a leisurely dinner, though I really only picked at my food. Still no appetite. This just wasn't normal for me. I saw two movies instead of one, wanting to be sure Langely would be gone before I got back. It was past midnight when I got home.

Even with the lateness of the hour, I half expected Thomas to still be there, waiting to plead his case once again. But he was gone, the house was dark. I made my way quietly to the kitchen to see if there was any strudel left. Well, I was as quiet as a person can be when they're trying to avoid stepping on a trio of weaving, mewing cats.

There was a good bit of the pastry left, and I cut myself a generous chunk. I got a glass of milk to go along with it. Then, unable to deny the coaxing cats, I put down a bowl of milk and watched as they surrounded it, lapping busily.

"That's why I don't understand your attitude on this, Emmie."

I whirled at the quiet rumble. Kurt was standing in the door, in his boxers. "Jesus, will you not do that! I'm starting to get old enough to be a stroke risk, Kurt."

He ignored my outburst, pointing at the cats. "You're so kindhearted to begin with, so generous. Look how readily you took me in, and I'm not exactly your mainstream sort of person. You help Clemenze, you're half den-mother to the kids in your class, you took care of your parents for over twenty years. Why is it so hard for you to give that little bit of yourself to Thomas, when he loves you so much?"

I picked up the plate and glass. "I think I'll take this in my room. The psychoanalysis is making it rather hard to breath in here."

As I walked past him, he said, "If you'd just face yourself, Emmie, face what you're afraid of, all would be well, for you AND Thomas."

I turned back to him for a moment. My voice sounded strange, even to myself. "But I don't HAVE to face it, Kurt. That's what being my own woman is all about. I don't have to face a fucking thing if I don't want to." I went into my room, closing my door in the face of his thoughtful look.