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“Why ever not?”“Well, from what I’ve read – mainly in women’s magazines – there are an awful lot of predatory weirdos out there. And don’t forget she lives on her own.”“Couldn’t you do a bit of… match-making, Jen?”“Where am I going to conjure up an eligible male by next Friday?”“What about that dishy fitness instructor at the health centre you both go to? You’re always going on about how attractive he is.”“Matt? He’s gay.”Silence descended on the kitchen as they both considered various options for entrapping a likely man that sister Kate might spend the night with celebrating her big birthday.As she poured her husband’s second cup of coffee, Jennifer Lewis gave a big grin. “I’ve GOT it! Why didn’t I think of it before? The solution, my dear, is staring me in the face!”“It is? Well, would you care to share this pearl of wisdom?”“You!”“What about me?”“YOU! You can be Kate’s special birthday present - but only for one night!”He sipped his coffee thoughtfully. The suggestion certainly. I switched it off quickly before my head exploded. I reluctantly took one of my hands out from under the bed sheets, and keeping my eyes closed, turned on the lamp on the night table next to my bed. I opened my eyes slowly, letting them grow accustomed to the light little by little. “Gotta get up, buddy-boy,” I muttered under my breath, “so get movin’.’ I got out of bed slowly, but my body was not yet in synch with my brain. I stood up tentatively, looking for all the world like a newborn fawn trying to get up on its feet. My legs were not sure if they could support my body weight, and for a few seconds I felt sure that I was going to fall flat on my face. I was surprised when I didn’t fall. Not only were my legs capable of supporting my 160-pound body weight, they could propel me across my room. I tried crossing the space between my bed and my battered student’s desk (still cluttered with half a year’s worth of English assignments, a Smith-Corona typewriter, a rough draft of my last.
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