Dear Readers,
I have tried to work on this story several times but can not access the old T's Place forum where the original story was hosted. All of the story was posted there, and because it was all posted in "live time" so that the story was happening as it was posted, I did not save a copy.
I'm not sure how I can continue to post this story if I can't access the original. I will continue to check to see if whatever the problem is with setbb (the original forum host) is resolved. But until then this story will have to be on hold. If I can not access the original within a reasonable amount of time, then I'll have to take this down and discontinue the story.
I'm very sorry about this.
~T
Monday, January 27, 2014
Saturday, November 23, 2013
An Apology
Dear Readers,
I'm so sorry that I've been out of pocket. I wanted to drop you a line and let you know why I've been AWOL. My dad has been in the hospital for several weeks, and I've been spending a lot of time up there, stopping by in the evening after work and on the weekends. So, I haven't had a lot of time to write. There's been a couple close calls, and we thought we were gonna lose him there for a little bit.
Please pray (if that's in your belief system) for my dad and my family. We sure could use it.
Thanks,
T
I'm so sorry that I've been out of pocket. I wanted to drop you a line and let you know why I've been AWOL. My dad has been in the hospital for several weeks, and I've been spending a lot of time up there, stopping by in the evening after work and on the weekends. So, I haven't had a lot of time to write. There's been a couple close calls, and we thought we were gonna lose him there for a little bit.
Please pray (if that's in your belief system) for my dad and my family. We sure could use it.
Thanks,
T
Tuesday, October 22, 2013
Chapter Ten
The last day before a trial was always the most stressful and hectic, but this time was different. When Sam's alarm went off on Thursday morning, a strange sense of calm enveloped her. A comforting sense of being on the right side, perhaps?
Knowing Diva was sitting beside the bed staring at her, waiting for her to make some sort of move to show that she was awake, she lay staring at the ceiling, smiling. This was a game they played every morning. Each waited for the other to blink.
Sam heard the rustling as Diva shifted restlessly, then it happened - the dog laid her head on Sam's stomach. "I know, I know. You have to go out, but I gotta pee too. And I have opposable thumbs so I get to go first." She chuckled softly as she started to climb out of the bed and Diva backed up, then ran for the door. Sam always gave in... always.
She went and opened the door and let Diva out into the yard, watching the dog's antics briefly. She never understood why the dog never, no matter how bad she needed to pee, immediately squatted as soon as she hit grass. No, the dog had to make a few laps around the yard at top speed before taking the time to start sniffing for the perfect bathroom location. This morning, she wished she could watch Diva's folly all day, but she couldn't. Nature called and so did work, but the smile stayed in place the whole time she was getting ready to meet the day.
She was still grinning when she walked into her office, but it melted off her face when she saw who was waiting to see her. This was going to be the toughest part of her day.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
That afternoon, after starting the day with an emotional meltdown with the toddler's mother and dealing with multiple phone calls from the defendant's attorney who was wanting to make a deal, she was surprised by the little ding of a new message on Yahoo. She smiled at the simple question. You okay?
How did he always know the right things to say? And his timing was impeccable.
Maybe she should give him her phone number. If he was a whack job she could just change her number.
Besides, she really wanted to see if his voice was as sexy as she imagined.
After typing a quick response, telling him she was good for now, she went back to re-reading her notes for the millionth time.
You sure?
Smiling, she answered. Yeah, I'm good now. Rough day though.
Wanna talk about it?
Definitely not. Maybe later. This conversation would be so much easier if they could just talk on the phone. That was it. No more waffling back and forth. She was most certainly going to give him her number.
OK. It's a date :)
She laughed and the sound surprised her. How could she possibly laugh after the day she'd had? If she hadn't already decided to give him her phone number, that would've tipped the scales in his favor for sure. If he could make her laugh after the shitty day she'd had, then he couldn't be all bad. Why was she suddenly... giddy? Yeah, that was it. Giddy.
Half an hour later, she couldn't stand it anymore and wanted to tell someone about her decision, and the only people that would understand were the ladies on the forum. Quickly, she logged in.
They were discussing bootlegs again. She smiled at their feeble attempt to keep her from realizing what they were talking about. Like everyone above the age of three didn't speak and read fluent pig-Latin.
She chuckled. Besides, they were doing it wrong.
Lucy and one of the newbies were joking about loose terms or loose ladies, but she wasn't really reading all the posts. Besides, she had only stopped by here to spill her news. Quickly, she typed up a post and hit send.
Sam smiled. Well, that was the plan, anyway.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
She had barely gotten in the door and kicked off her high heels when her phone rang. She laughed out loud as she picked up the cordless she'd left laying on the coffee table. The little screen said Unknown name with a long distance number underneath. Must be him.
Glancing at her watch, she laughed again. She had sent him a PM right before she left the office, giving him her phone number and telling him that she was leaving work and it would take her about 30 minutes to get home, depending on traffic. The man didn't wait around.
"Hello," she said as she answered the phone.
"Oh, God, Lucy was right," he told her, groaning softly, immediately afraid that this woman was going to kill him with her voice alone.
"Right about what?"
"She posted on the forum that you had a sexy Southern accent," he answered. The one thing Lucy hadn't mentioned was just how husky it was. Sam had that Kathleen Turner smokey voice that could make a man's dick stand at attention with just a word. Even if she didn't kill him with it, rigor mortis would still be present below the belt.
"I'll take your word for it," she laughed. His voice had a smooth aged bourbon quality that made her think of warm, sultry Southern nights. With a slight Jersey accent.
"How was your day, Sam, honey?"
Well, there it was. What she'd been waiting on since she'd decided to give him her number. His voice had dropped an octave on the word honey, there was just the slightest bit of gravel to his tone. Damn, it was as sexy as she had imagined.
Her toes curled into the carpet. "Hectic. The bastard wants a deal in a bad way. I wouldn't give him one, no way. I'm going for murder one."
"Stand your ground, honey," he told her.
"I did. Even when my boss asked me why I didn't work a deal when the bastard's attorney tried to let his client cop to second degree murder," she replied, shaking her head. It still amazed her that Mark had asked her that question.
"Why would your boss want you to let the bastard plea to a lesser charge?"
"Mark's afraid that I can't make murder one stick. The guy's claiming it was an accident. Mark's afraid that the worst I can get him for would be involuntary manslaughter, so he was thrilled that the guy wants to cop to second degree," she explained.
"So, what's your strategy?" he asked.
"Hell John, when a grown man picks up a two-year-old toddler and shakes him hard enough to cause brain trauma and death, that's no damn accident. And, I'm sure I can make a jury see that. Twelve people with kids, grand-kids, nieces or nephews, or younger siblings. Yeah, I'm gonna nail this bastard."
"I'm sure you will, baby."
"The worst part was the mother came to see me today," she said softly.
He immediately wished he could hold her. "That had to be rough."
"Yeah, she's a wreck, but then who wouldn't be?" She paused. "She cried on my shoulder today; she blames herself for leaving the child with her bastard boyfriend."
He didn't ask, but he knew the mother wasn't the only woman crying in Sam's office that day.
"I'm going to get justice for her and that baby," she said forcefully, "or go down swinging."
"You'll get 'em justice, Sam," he assured her. "I have faith in you."
"Thanks," she replied. "Could we talk about something else now?"
"Sure, honey," he struggled to come up with something to ask that wouldn't seem too much like a psycho stalker question. "Uh, what's your family like?"
"I have an older brother, who is pretty much a prank playing pain in the ass. Zan reminds me of him actually."
"I gotta be honest here, Sam. His name is Richie, not Zan. Most of the time I just call him Rich," he explained. "But, that's something else I'd rather you not mention on the board."
"Why all the secrecy, John?"
"We just like our privacy, just like you. No big secrets being kept."
"Well, while we're on the subject of Zan...uh, I mean Richie, I promised Lucy I would try to get her phone number to him."
He just started laughing. "Sure, let me get some paper and a pen. I'm not going to guarantee he's going to call her though."
"No problem," she laughed with him, "I didn't promise he'd call, I just promised I'd see that he got her number."
"OK shoot," he told her, still smiling.
She rambled off the number that Lucy had given her. Then he repeated it back to her. "Yeah, that's it."
"Hold on," he said, still laughing. He moved the phone away from his mouth. "Hey Rich," she heard him yell. "C'mere a minute."
She barely heard a male voice answer. "What is it, Kidd?" It was a sexy drawl, not really Jersey, more like transplanted Californian.
"Here," Jon told him.
"What's this?"
"Lucy's phone number," she heard Jon answer. "Sam promised her that she'd give you her number."
"Lucy? Oh, the little firecracker in Chicago, right?"
"Yeah, that's the one."
"Tell Sam I said thanks."
"Here, tell her yourself," she heard Jon say right before another male voice came on the line.
"Hello there, Sam darlin'," he said.
God, she'd love to hear this man sing the blues. His deep voice was smooth as Tennessee whiskey, with just a touch of Coke for fizz. She'd have to remember it in detail so she could describe how it sounded when he said 'darlin'; the girls on the board would kill her if she didn't. "Hello, Zan," she almost choked out. "Sorry, I mean Richie."
"Don't go spreadin' that name around now, darlin'," he told her softly.
"I won't," she assured him.
"Thanks for the phone number, darlin'," he said. "I'm not going to promise to call her though."
"Hakuna Matata," she replied, smiling. "I just promised I'd get the number to you. If you don't call her it's on you."
"Oh shit, Sam," he laughed, "you sure know how to make a guy feel like scum."
"What can I say? I try," she laughed.
"Here's Kidd," he replied, before he handed the phone back to Jon.
"Hey, baby," his husky voice came back on the line. "He's gone now, left the room mumbling something about someone boiling his pet rabbit."
"Lucy's not like that, honest," Sam said. "I've talked to her on the phone, and I'm a really good judge of character."
"So, you have a brother," he said, changing the subject. "I have two. Well, if you don't count Rich and my other friends. What about your parents?"
"My dad died when I was a kid," she answered. "And my mom died when I was a sixteen. My older brother took care of me 'til I went away to college."
"Oh Sam, honey," he said apologetically, "I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have brought them up."
"You didn't know," she tried to reassure him. "Really, it's okay. I fight now, for women like my mother."
"What do you mean?"
"My step-father beat her to death," she said flatly. "He abused her for years, and one night in a drunken rage he beat her so bad that she died the next day at the hospital."
Jon was in shock. He couldn't believe this vibrant woman had lived through such a nightmare. "I understand your passion now."
She was silent for a few seconds. "So, how 'bout you?"
"My mom and dad live in Florida," he answered, recognizing her need to change the subject.
"Your brothers, younger or older?"
"Younger," he answered. He heard a loud bark in the background. Holy shit, did that deep sound come from her dog?
"Hold on, John," she told him. "What is it, Deeve? Do you need to go out?"
Jon could hear thumping noises, and Sam talked to him as she walked to the door. Was all that noise coming from the dog? How big was this monster?
He heard the distinct sound of a door knob being rattled. Then Sam's voice again, "How bad do you need to go out?" More thumping sounds, and another deep, very loud bark. "Apparently, not bad enough," he heard her tell the dog. There was a pause, then, "Good girl." He heard the door open and close.
"Sorry about that," she replied.
"No problem," he chuckled, "just how big is that dog?"
"Well, I told you I'm 5'8" right? Her head is at my hip, and my legs are pretty long." There was dead silence on the other end of the line. What had the man that always knew the right thing to say so damn quiet?
Jon was busy doing some quick calculations. He held one hand about two inches below the top of his head, then dropped it down to about hip high. "Jesus, she's a monster!" he exclaimed. "What did she have to do to get you to open the door?"
"I make her sit to get in or out," Sam explained. "She's so big that, if you don't, she runs right over you in her excitement. I'm sure you heard her tail thumping on the wall and floor."
"That was her tail?" he asked in shock.
"Yeah, she's a big dog, John," she pointed out.
"I get that."
"John, I need to go. I've got a lot of stuff to do before the trial tomorrow," she told him.
"Oh, sorry," he apologized again, "I didn't think about that. Can I call you tomorrow night to check on you?"
"If you insist," she laughed.
"OK, good night, Sam," he told her. "Sweet dreams."
"G'night, John," she managed to get out. That sounded way better than she had thought it would when he'd typed it to her every night on Yahoo messenger.
Knowing Diva was sitting beside the bed staring at her, waiting for her to make some sort of move to show that she was awake, she lay staring at the ceiling, smiling. This was a game they played every morning. Each waited for the other to blink.
Sam heard the rustling as Diva shifted restlessly, then it happened - the dog laid her head on Sam's stomach. "I know, I know. You have to go out, but I gotta pee too. And I have opposable thumbs so I get to go first." She chuckled softly as she started to climb out of the bed and Diva backed up, then ran for the door. Sam always gave in... always.
She went and opened the door and let Diva out into the yard, watching the dog's antics briefly. She never understood why the dog never, no matter how bad she needed to pee, immediately squatted as soon as she hit grass. No, the dog had to make a few laps around the yard at top speed before taking the time to start sniffing for the perfect bathroom location. This morning, she wished she could watch Diva's folly all day, but she couldn't. Nature called and so did work, but the smile stayed in place the whole time she was getting ready to meet the day.
She was still grinning when she walked into her office, but it melted off her face when she saw who was waiting to see her. This was going to be the toughest part of her day.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
That afternoon, after starting the day with an emotional meltdown with the toddler's mother and dealing with multiple phone calls from the defendant's attorney who was wanting to make a deal, she was surprised by the little ding of a new message on Yahoo. She smiled at the simple question. You okay?
How did he always know the right things to say? And his timing was impeccable.
Maybe she should give him her phone number. If he was a whack job she could just change her number.
Besides, she really wanted to see if his voice was as sexy as she imagined.
After typing a quick response, telling him she was good for now, she went back to re-reading her notes for the millionth time.
You sure?
Smiling, she answered. Yeah, I'm good now. Rough day though.
Wanna talk about it?
Definitely not. Maybe later. This conversation would be so much easier if they could just talk on the phone. That was it. No more waffling back and forth. She was most certainly going to give him her number.
OK. It's a date :)
She laughed and the sound surprised her. How could she possibly laugh after the day she'd had? If she hadn't already decided to give him her phone number, that would've tipped the scales in his favor for sure. If he could make her laugh after the shitty day she'd had, then he couldn't be all bad. Why was she suddenly... giddy? Yeah, that was it. Giddy.
Half an hour later, she couldn't stand it anymore and wanted to tell someone about her decision, and the only people that would understand were the ladies on the forum. Quickly, she logged in.
They were discussing bootlegs again. She smiled at their feeble attempt to keep her from realizing what they were talking about. Like everyone above the age of three didn't speak and read fluent pig-Latin.
She chuckled. Besides, they were doing it wrong.
| FemFBFan4Life Layin' in a Bed of Roses Joined: 25 Aug 2007 Posts: 1362 |
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| ChgoBearsFan Miss Fourth of July Joined: 26 Aug 2007 Posts: 5142 Location: In LA working on the plans for when I become...MRS ZAN!! |
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| FemFBFan4Life Layin' in a Bed of Roses Joined: 25 Aug 2007 Posts: 1362 : Items |
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Lucy and one of the newbies were joking about loose terms or loose ladies, but she wasn't really reading all the posts. Besides, she had only stopped by here to spill her news. Quickly, she typed up a post and hit send.
| FemFBFan4Life Layin' in a Bed of Roses Joined: 25 Aug 2007 Posts: 1362 |
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| ChgoBearsFan Miss Fourth of July Joined: 26 Aug 2007 Posts: 5142 : Location: In LA working on the plans for when I become...MRS ZAN!! Items |
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| ChgoBearsFan Miss Fourth of July Joined: 26 Aug 2007 Posts: 5142 Location: In LA working on the plans for when I become...MRS ZAN!! |
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| FemFBFan4Life Layin' in a Bed of Roses Joined: 25 Aug 2007 Posts: 1362 |
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| FemFBFan4Life Layin' in a Bed of Roses Joined: 25 Aug 2007 Posts: 1362 |
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| ChgoBearsFan Miss Fourth of July Joined: 26 Aug 2007 Posts: 5142 Location: In LA working on the plans for when I become...MRS ZAN!! |
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| FemFBFan4Life Layin' in a Bed of Roses Joined: 25 Aug 2007 Posts: 1362 |
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| ChgoBearsFan Miss Fourth of July Joined: 26 Aug 2007 Posts: 5142 Location: In LA working on the plans for when I become...MRS ZAN!! |
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| ChgoBearsFan Miss Fourth of July Joined: 26 Aug 2007 Posts: 5142 Location: In LA working on the plans for when I become...MRS ZAN!! |
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| FemFBFan4Life Layin' in a Bed of Roses Joined: 25 Aug 2007 Posts: 1362 |
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| ChgoBearsFan Miss Fourth of July Joined: 26 Aug 2007 Posts: 5142 Location: In LA working on the plans for when I become...MRS ZAN!! |
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| FemFBFan4Life Layin' in a Bed of Roses Joined: 25 Aug 2007 Posts: 1362 : Items |
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| ChgoBearsFan Miss Fourth of July Joined: 26 Aug 2007 Posts: 5142 Location: In LA working on the plans for when I become...MRS ZAN!! |
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Sam smiled. Well, that was the plan, anyway.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
She had barely gotten in the door and kicked off her high heels when her phone rang. She laughed out loud as she picked up the cordless she'd left laying on the coffee table. The little screen said Unknown name with a long distance number underneath. Must be him.
Glancing at her watch, she laughed again. She had sent him a PM right before she left the office, giving him her phone number and telling him that she was leaving work and it would take her about 30 minutes to get home, depending on traffic. The man didn't wait around.
"Hello," she said as she answered the phone.
"Oh, God, Lucy was right," he told her, groaning softly, immediately afraid that this woman was going to kill him with her voice alone.
"Right about what?"
"She posted on the forum that you had a sexy Southern accent," he answered. The one thing Lucy hadn't mentioned was just how husky it was. Sam had that Kathleen Turner smokey voice that could make a man's dick stand at attention with just a word. Even if she didn't kill him with it, rigor mortis would still be present below the belt.
"I'll take your word for it," she laughed. His voice had a smooth aged bourbon quality that made her think of warm, sultry Southern nights. With a slight Jersey accent.
"How was your day, Sam, honey?"
Well, there it was. What she'd been waiting on since she'd decided to give him her number. His voice had dropped an octave on the word honey, there was just the slightest bit of gravel to his tone. Damn, it was as sexy as she had imagined.
Her toes curled into the carpet. "Hectic. The bastard wants a deal in a bad way. I wouldn't give him one, no way. I'm going for murder one."
"Stand your ground, honey," he told her.
"I did. Even when my boss asked me why I didn't work a deal when the bastard's attorney tried to let his client cop to second degree murder," she replied, shaking her head. It still amazed her that Mark had asked her that question.
"Why would your boss want you to let the bastard plea to a lesser charge?"
"Mark's afraid that I can't make murder one stick. The guy's claiming it was an accident. Mark's afraid that the worst I can get him for would be involuntary manslaughter, so he was thrilled that the guy wants to cop to second degree," she explained.
"So, what's your strategy?" he asked.
"Hell John, when a grown man picks up a two-year-old toddler and shakes him hard enough to cause brain trauma and death, that's no damn accident. And, I'm sure I can make a jury see that. Twelve people with kids, grand-kids, nieces or nephews, or younger siblings. Yeah, I'm gonna nail this bastard."
"I'm sure you will, baby."
"The worst part was the mother came to see me today," she said softly.
He immediately wished he could hold her. "That had to be rough."
"Yeah, she's a wreck, but then who wouldn't be?" She paused. "She cried on my shoulder today; she blames herself for leaving the child with her bastard boyfriend."
He didn't ask, but he knew the mother wasn't the only woman crying in Sam's office that day.
"I'm going to get justice for her and that baby," she said forcefully, "or go down swinging."
"You'll get 'em justice, Sam," he assured her. "I have faith in you."
"Thanks," she replied. "Could we talk about something else now?"
"Sure, honey," he struggled to come up with something to ask that wouldn't seem too much like a psycho stalker question. "Uh, what's your family like?"
"I have an older brother, who is pretty much a prank playing pain in the ass. Zan reminds me of him actually."
"I gotta be honest here, Sam. His name is Richie, not Zan. Most of the time I just call him Rich," he explained. "But, that's something else I'd rather you not mention on the board."
"Why all the secrecy, John?"
"We just like our privacy, just like you. No big secrets being kept."
"Well, while we're on the subject of Zan...uh, I mean Richie, I promised Lucy I would try to get her phone number to him."
He just started laughing. "Sure, let me get some paper and a pen. I'm not going to guarantee he's going to call her though."
"No problem," she laughed with him, "I didn't promise he'd call, I just promised I'd see that he got her number."
"OK shoot," he told her, still smiling.
She rambled off the number that Lucy had given her. Then he repeated it back to her. "Yeah, that's it."
"Hold on," he said, still laughing. He moved the phone away from his mouth. "Hey Rich," she heard him yell. "C'mere a minute."
She barely heard a male voice answer. "What is it, Kidd?" It was a sexy drawl, not really Jersey, more like transplanted Californian.
"Here," Jon told him.
"What's this?"
"Lucy's phone number," she heard Jon answer. "Sam promised her that she'd give you her number."
"Lucy? Oh, the little firecracker in Chicago, right?"
"Yeah, that's the one."
"Tell Sam I said thanks."
"Here, tell her yourself," she heard Jon say right before another male voice came on the line.
"Hello there, Sam darlin'," he said.
God, she'd love to hear this man sing the blues. His deep voice was smooth as Tennessee whiskey, with just a touch of Coke for fizz. She'd have to remember it in detail so she could describe how it sounded when he said 'darlin'; the girls on the board would kill her if she didn't. "Hello, Zan," she almost choked out. "Sorry, I mean Richie."
"Don't go spreadin' that name around now, darlin'," he told her softly.
"I won't," she assured him.
"Thanks for the phone number, darlin'," he said. "I'm not going to promise to call her though."
"Hakuna Matata," she replied, smiling. "I just promised I'd get the number to you. If you don't call her it's on you."
"Oh shit, Sam," he laughed, "you sure know how to make a guy feel like scum."
"What can I say? I try," she laughed.
"Here's Kidd," he replied, before he handed the phone back to Jon.
"Hey, baby," his husky voice came back on the line. "He's gone now, left the room mumbling something about someone boiling his pet rabbit."
"Lucy's not like that, honest," Sam said. "I've talked to her on the phone, and I'm a really good judge of character."
"So, you have a brother," he said, changing the subject. "I have two. Well, if you don't count Rich and my other friends. What about your parents?"
"My dad died when I was a kid," she answered. "And my mom died when I was a sixteen. My older brother took care of me 'til I went away to college."
"Oh Sam, honey," he said apologetically, "I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have brought them up."
"You didn't know," she tried to reassure him. "Really, it's okay. I fight now, for women like my mother."
"What do you mean?"
"My step-father beat her to death," she said flatly. "He abused her for years, and one night in a drunken rage he beat her so bad that she died the next day at the hospital."
Jon was in shock. He couldn't believe this vibrant woman had lived through such a nightmare. "I understand your passion now."
She was silent for a few seconds. "So, how 'bout you?"
"My mom and dad live in Florida," he answered, recognizing her need to change the subject.
"Your brothers, younger or older?"
"Younger," he answered. He heard a loud bark in the background. Holy shit, did that deep sound come from her dog?
"Hold on, John," she told him. "What is it, Deeve? Do you need to go out?"
Jon could hear thumping noises, and Sam talked to him as she walked to the door. Was all that noise coming from the dog? How big was this monster?
He heard the distinct sound of a door knob being rattled. Then Sam's voice again, "How bad do you need to go out?" More thumping sounds, and another deep, very loud bark. "Apparently, not bad enough," he heard her tell the dog. There was a pause, then, "Good girl." He heard the door open and close.
"Sorry about that," she replied.
"No problem," he chuckled, "just how big is that dog?"
"Well, I told you I'm 5'8" right? Her head is at my hip, and my legs are pretty long." There was dead silence on the other end of the line. What had the man that always knew the right thing to say so damn quiet?
Jon was busy doing some quick calculations. He held one hand about two inches below the top of his head, then dropped it down to about hip high. "Jesus, she's a monster!" he exclaimed. "What did she have to do to get you to open the door?"
"I make her sit to get in or out," Sam explained. "She's so big that, if you don't, she runs right over you in her excitement. I'm sure you heard her tail thumping on the wall and floor."
"That was her tail?" he asked in shock.
"Yeah, she's a big dog, John," she pointed out.
"I get that."
"John, I need to go. I've got a lot of stuff to do before the trial tomorrow," she told him.
"Oh, sorry," he apologized again, "I didn't think about that. Can I call you tomorrow night to check on you?"
"If you insist," she laughed.
"OK, good night, Sam," he told her. "Sweet dreams."
"G'night, John," she managed to get out. That sounded way better than she had thought it would when he'd typed it to her every night on Yahoo messenger.
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