November 18th, 1971

    “You’re all out of your minds if you think I’m letting you take a taxi to the airport,” my sister growled, putting emphasis on our insanity. “I’m driving, and that’s that.”
    We couldn’t quite argue, at least not with the look on her face. Liliane had gorged us with food and drink last night until reluctantly agreeing to let us get some sleep once midnight had come and gone. It was three o'clock in the afternoon now, though, and Lee looked like he hadn't slept a wink.
    Cameron tried to resist Liliane's demand of being our chauffeur, but she shut him up with a look that could bend steel. He must have known it would be useless, and brought our suitcases to the car with Lee's help.
    Liliane shook her head. "It wasn't this hard to watch you leave last time."
    "No, it wasn't." I peered out of the sunroom's window towards the men; they’d each lit a cigarette.
    "You have the recipe I copied out for Joan, right?"
    "In my purse," I assured her with a nod. "We'll probably see her for lunch, by the time we land and unpack. You start work Saturday?"
    "Yeah."
    "Well, at least you'll have two days to rest."
    Liliane didn't reply. She was watching Lee and Cameron, jackets clutched to their chests and white clouds of hot breath around them.
    "Will you call me, when you're settled at home?"
    I looked at my sister and noticed the crease on her forehead. “Is everything alright?”
    Liliane smiled, though it seemed hesitant. "Nothing bad, don't worry," she urged. "Just something I have to tell you."
    "Do you want to say it now?" I asked, now worried. "We have a little time before we need to go."
    Liliane pulled me into a hug before replying. "It's nothing bad, I promise," she repeated. Her arms were tight around me and I held her close. "It's just a bit of a long story."


    The drive to the airport was mostly quiet. I had little doubt that Lee and my sister had said a true goodbye to each other last night and today’s goodbye would be more subdued. She accompanied us into the airport and said goodbye to me and Cameron, though I knew it was Lee she didn’t want to see leave. He kept his arms around her for most of the time she lingered, and I angled myself away from them to give a semblance of privacy to their whispers.
    As much as it hurt to part with my sister, I was glad when we made our way through security and towards the gate without her. I only glanced back at her once before we went through the gates and saw her facing away from us. I knew what it meant, too; she wanted to see us off but didn’t want us to see her emotions.
    We passed through security quickly, and the flight took off on time without much turbulence. Luckily, Lee fell asleep once the plane reached a cruising altitude and only woke twice to be served water and a soda from one of the attendants. The woman winked at him with a sweet smile, but Lee didn't seem to notice her or her attention.


    It was morning in Scotland once we landed. The efficiency of most European airports was always welcome, and today’s arrival was no different. We were outside, loitering by the taxi lanes, within an hour of landing.
    The fresh air brought me enough renewed energy to question Lee. “You’ll be off to Balmedie, I suppose?” He had been renting a small house there for two years, and had a roommate in Colin since the spring.
    Lee nodded. “I’ll likely sleep all day,” he noted. “If Colin doesn’t question me to death.”
    “It’ll be nice to have your own bed back,” Cameron chimed, glancing at me briefly. “If nothing else, it’s a comfort.”
    “You aren’t wrong, Cameron. I’ll be off, then.” Lee picked up his suitcase and tossed his cigarette into a nearby ashtray. “Get home safe, you two.”
    “We will.” The talk of Colin had reminded me of the favour I’d asked him for, and I called out to Lee. “Tell Colin to ring the house, will you?”
    “Consider it done.”
    Lee gave us a brief wave as he walked away, knocking on the window of the first taxi he came across and getting in.
    Cameron and I got our own taxi soon after, and had arrived home in Cairnie by ten o'clock. We opened windows on both floors to air out the house, but even with the staleness it felt wonderful to be home.
    "It's nice, isn't it?" Cameron wrapped his arms around my waist and out his chin on my shoulder.
    "Very nice," I agreed, putting my hands on his and leaning back into his arms. "But this is nice too."
    Cameron hummed softly. "We'll need to have lunch with Joan. Though I'd much rather space out here with you," he added with a sigh.
    "Do you want to go tomorrow? I'm sure she wouldn't mind, Cameron. We have been up for fourteen hours."
    "No, we should go." Cameron released me from his embrace. "She'll be happy to see us, and I'd like to know what James' visit was about."
    I had almost forgotten, but Cameron clearly hadn't. I followed him into the kitchen and watched as he filled the kettle for tea. "You're dying to know, aren't you?"
    "Wouldn't you?" Cameron paused for a moment. "I haven't seen him in years. Five, if not six," he added in a murmur, though more to himself than to me.
    "You've spoken to him though, sometimes?"
    "Not often enough," Cameron admitted with embarrassment hidden in his face. "He's been a good friend to me but between each of us touring like headless chickens, it's been over a year since we last spoke."
    I put my hand on Cameron's back and began to rub gently. "You'll hear from him soon enough. Either way, I'm sure Joan has an earful or two for us."


    Joan had us sitting at the kitchen table eating lunch within five minutes of our arrival. The Scotch broth had been simmering since the early morning, and my first taste of the soup didn’t disappoint. 
    We chatted lightheartedly, though most of the talking was done by Cameron and I. Joan wanted to know all about the North American tour and how it had gone, if we'd been well taken care of by management, and what the audience reception was like.
    It was only after we'd finished lunch that Cameron mentioned James and his visit. “Willie only said that he’d been looking for me,” he told his aunt when she asked what he’d been told. “Has he really moved back?”
    Joan sat down at the table and stretched discreetly, letting out a quiet sigh. “I’ll tell you the story, then.”
    It had been the last Friday in October, and Joan had invited some friends of hers to the house— she’d become popular at the local bingo hall— for tea and a game of cribbage. She opened the front door when someone knocked, only to see Cameron’s former bandmate standing on her steps.
    “I insisted James come in for a cup of tea and a scone,” she explained, “and I nearly pinched his ear for trying to refuse. He told me he was looking for you, as he’d come back from Ireland and was reaching out to friends of his.”
    Cameron was too curious to keep his mouth shut. “Where’s he living now?”
    “Falkirk, he said. He’d sent you a letter a while ago but he was curious to know why you hadn’t called him, or returned a note.” Joan stood as she spoke and retrieved an imposing stack of letters from one of the kitchen drawers. She sat back down and placed it in front of us. “I told him you and the band were over the pond, but that you and Emily would be back in a few weeks.”
    Cameron began to look through the letters and quickly found the one James had sent. “What did he say to that?” he asked, tearing open the envelope.
    “He asked me if you’d call him when you returned, and I promised you would. His phone number’s in the letter,” she added.
    Cameron nodded absentmindedly; he was already reading James’ letter. I looked through the other letters and realized Joan had organized them, making it easy work to find those addressed to me. Liliane had sent one in late August and another at the beginning of October, and another was from Mark, postmarked two days after we’d left Vancouver. I’d enjoy reading them, but the next letter's origin wasn't so clear.
    It had been sent in a white envelope, but had no return address written on it. The postmark revealed it had been sent in the first week of September from Sunderland. I furrowed my brow as I wondered who'd sent me a letter from the northeast of England.
    I couldn't think of anyone, so I opened the envelope and took out the letter. I ignored every word on the single page other than the signature, and stifled a sigh.

Regards and warm wishes,
Sylvia

    I folded the letter and slid it back into the envelope. 'Well, that's a letter for another day,' I told myself. I had missed Sylvia and often wondered how she and Clyde were doing, but this wasn't the time to ponder the reason for her letter.
    Cameron grunted, sounding surprised, and put the letter down. "James hasn't said much," he mumbled in explanation. "He's bought a house at the edge of Falkirk and seems to have decided on staying there for a good while. The only reason he mentioned was that he’s separated from his girlfriend.”
    “The girl who always wore a kerchief?” Joan inquired.
    Cameron nodded. “With the red hair, yes. James moved to Ireland about five years ago to be with her,” he explained to me. “She had an ill relative to care for, if I recall, and he went along.”
    Joan sighed, shaking her head slowly. “A shame, really.”
    “What’s done is done,” Cameron said with a shrug. “I’ll give him a call this week.”


    I was glad that Joan had sent us off with a basket of food, so we didn’t have to stop on the way home to get groceries. I was tempted to read the letters as we drove to Cairnie, but resisted. I told myself to keep the ones from Mark and Sylvia for tomorrow and only read the two Liliane had sent, then give her a call.
    I realized I hadn’t told Cameron about my sister’s request before we left for the airport, and shared it with him.
    “Did she say what it was about?” he asked, once I’d finished telling him.
    “No. Promised it was nothing bad, and only a long story, but she didn’t elaborate much.”
    “I wonder what it’s about.”
    “If I had to guess, I’d say it’s about Lee.” I looked at the postmarks on her letters and confirmed the dates. “She knew I wouldn’t get any letters until we came back, and we’d see her before that anyway. I think she only wrote back to get something off her chest.”
    Cameron hummed curiously but didn't say anything. He pulled into the driveway and parked the van, grabbing the basket from Joan as I got up with the pile of letters in my hands.
    We weren’t hungry enough to eat anything, mainly due to how filling lunch with Joan had been. Cameron excused himself to start laundry, so I left him to the task and sat down in the kitchen with Liliane’s letters.

Dear Emily,
    I got your letter three days ago. Lee’s was inside the envelope too, which threw me for a loop. I’ve been trying to figure it out since then but I’ve gotten tired of mulling over it, so I figured I’d write, since I can’t call you.
    He didn’t say much, but I think it took him time to write it. Sometimes you can tell how fast someone is writing by the slant in the letters. How sloppy it looks, you know? Told me that the shows in Michigan went well, and that he’s missed me. He misses me? I’ll never hate you, Emily, but sometimes I think I could. Just for introducing me to him.
    Then he said that he hoped I was happy to read the letter, and that he’d stop sending them if I didn’t want them. I could whack him! I hate how happy I was to see a letter from him. Happy to hear from him? I felt like I was thirteen again, beaming like an idiot.
    I’m frustrated, but also… not. Anyways, I don’t even know if I’ll send this or not. But if I do, I hope you’re well. Love you.
    Liliane

    I chuckled as I put the letter down. If that was how she felt in August, I could confidently assume that she'd only grown more attached to him since. She'd spent a week with him during our stay at her house, and I had recognized the handwriting on the pile of letters she kept on her kitchen counter. I smiled to myself and opened the other letter, which wasn't much longer than the first.

    To my sister Emily,
    It's October fourth. I just came home from work and I should be eating supper, but I decided to write to you.
    I've been getting your postcards and letters, and I keep the pictures you've been sending. On Friday I got the ones from the festival, and all of you look like you're having a ball! I'm happy for you guys, for the band. I'm glad you're getting traction— what a crowd at the outdoor show!
    I had hoped to have word from Lee this week, but his letters don't always arrive at the same time as yours. We talked when you called me two weeks ago in the middle of the night. You were in California then.
    I didn't sleep at all after we hung up, isn't that pathetic? I was wide awake once he said my name. Sometimes, I think I'm just being naive about him, but then I get a letter from him or see him in a photo you've sent, and I curse my own emotions.
    And to think that in a month, you'll all be here, playing a show downtown. I hope I'll last the month! I can't wait to hug you, and to kiss him. God, that's horribly sappy! I should go, before I turn into a spruce tree.
    With love,
    Liliane

    I put the letter down and smiled, silently laughing at my sister. All too easily I could recall how my sister had nearly demanded explanations for my outings with Cameron, once she and I had gotten home. I wasn’t able to explain it very well and she couldn’t see why— but now, I’m sure she’d figured it out.
    It was nearing six in the evening now, but with the five-hour time difference I had no scruples about calling Liliane. I stood and stretched before going over to the phone in the hallway and dialing my sister.
    “Hey, sis.”
    “Emily! You’re home? How was the flight?”
    “Nothing special,” I told her with a chuckle. “We landed around nine this morning, but Cameron and I went for lunch at Joan’s.”
    “Good. Did you give her the recipe?”
    I assured her that I’d handed over the creton recipe, and mentioned the held mail. “You’ll be proud to know that you sent half of the letters for me,” I said with a smile.
    “Oh? I guess you’re not all that popular,” Liliane sighed, feigning sadness.
    I laughed softly, and she asked me if I’d read hers. “Yes, I did. I had a feeling what they were about, so I opened them just now,” I informed her.
    “I almost didn’t send them, but I figured that it’d be a shame to write it and not mail it to you.”
    “You can beam all you want, Lil,” I told her, referring to her first letter. “And you don’t have to feel like a stupid kid with a crush, either. If you’re feeling corny and romantic, I’m sure he is too.”
    Liliane hesitated to reply, but did after a moment. “That’s actually what I wanted to talk to you about,” she admitted slowly.
    I had prepared a sarcastic comment, but there was something odd in her voice that made me bury it. “I’m listening.”
    “Well… I guess the main thing is that I’m sorry.”
    “Sorry for what, Lil?”
    “I asked you for something impossible, when we came back from Scotland and you told me about Cameron and you,” she blurted. “I can still hear myself asking why you’d go back, and why you’d spend four months in a bus with some band just to be with Cameron. I was so mad at you, Emily,” she confessed, sounding angry as she spoke. “You wouldn’t tell me why, and I thought it was just me being overbearing, but it’s because you didn’t know how to say it.”
    “I appreciate the apology,” I mumbled. She still sounded distraught, and I wasn’t sure if I should press her to keep talking.
    After a few moments of silence, I heard my sister sigh. “I don’t really want to tell you this,” she began, “but I need to tell someone.”
    “What is it?”
    “You won’t tell anyone.” Liliane hadn’t phrased it as a question.
    “No one.”
    “Not even Cameron.”
    “Not even Cameron.” I repeated.
    “The last night you were here, we went to bed after having that apple cake and some boozed coffee,” she reminded me. “Lee… he told me things, and I’m still spinning from them.”
    “Good things?” I asked curiously.
    “God, Emily, did you think it’d be bad?” she scoffed. “He said ‘I’m very fond of loving you.’ That’s exactly what he said. I knew, but I was still surprised,” she continued, sounding flustered and shy. “I told him he can’t be pining over me while he’s globetrotting.”
    "Can I tell you something, sis?"
    "No."
    "You're a bonehead," I told her anyway.
    Liliane ignored me and continued to recount her last night with Lee. "I don't know what made me do it, Emily. I tried... I don't even know why, really," she said in a sad tone. "But I tried to tell him that he can't miss out on his life because of me."
    ‘I’ll have to add knucklehead to that list,’ I said to myself, though I made an attempt at support with my reply. "What did he say to that?"
    "He kissed me, and said that he'd only be missing out on me." Liliane's voice was thick and I knew she was going through a pile of emotions as she spoke. "He told me that I didn't have to actually say it, because he already knew, and he was glad."
    "What does he know?"
    "I love him," she murmured.
    "Say it aloud a few dozen times, and it'll be easier to digest," I offered as advice. "That's what I had to do."
    Liliane sighed. "I guess I'm sorry about that too, Emily. I thought you were an idiot to not tell Cameron how you felt before we left."
    I chuckled, a smile on my face despite the weight of our conversation. "If it makes you feel better, so did I."


    Once I'd finished talking with my sister, I headed upstairs to our bedroom. Cameron was in the midst of making the bed, adjusting the fitted sheet on the mattress.
    "How's your sister?"
    "Lonesome and pining," I answered as I entered the room.
    I couldn't help but smile when Cameron laughed softly. "Were you right about the letters?"
    "Absolutely." I walked up to him and put my arms around his waist; he'd taken his shirt off and his skin was soothingly warm.
    "I'll never doubt you again," he teased, a wide grin on his face as he held me close.
    I pressed my lips to his for a quick kiss. "Good," I whispered.
    Cameron kissed me again, his hands on my waist, and I somehow fought my desire to melt like a candle.
    The phone rang, and we pulled away from each other. Cameron raised his eyebrows in interest, but I groaned as I let go of him.
    "Who dares disturb us, on this, the day of our return home?" I exclaimed dramatically. I heard Cameron's laughter behind me as I walked over to the phone in the hallway and picked up the handset.
    "Hello?"
    "Emily, I'm glad I caught you," Colin said in greeting. "I called earlier, but the line was busy."
    "How are you doing, Colin? I was talking with my sister, to let her know how the flight went."
    "I'm well enough. Lee mentioned you wanted news of Steve, so I thought I'd call tonight," he explained. "I spoke with his mother the day after we arrived, she's a lovely woman. She told me he'd been on the Isle of Man until the end of the month."
    "The Isle of Man?" I repeated in surprise.
    "That's what she told me, and I doubt she'd lie about it."
    "Did she say anything else?" I asked, suddenly curious about what had made Steve visit the Isle.
    "She assured me that he'd give you a ring when he's home."
    I nodded, even though Colin couldn't see me. "Alright, at least that gives me some time," I said with a laugh. "Thanks for that, Colin."
    “No issue, Emily, I’m glad to be of help. I’ll let you go now, though,” he added with a laugh. “You sound like you’re fighting to stay awake.”
    “It’s been a long day, I won’t lie.”
    “Off to bed then, Granny,” Colin ordered jokingly.
    “It won’t be much longer, don’t worry. Have a good night, Colin.” He wished us both a good night in return and I hung up, feeling relieved that this call had proved less taxing than Liliane’s.
    I walked back into the bedroom just as Cameron finished making the bed. I could almost smell the fresh linen, but the thought of getting into a clean bed without having showered since our flight irked me.
    “I’m going to jump in the shower,” I told Cameron as I pulled off my socks. I tossed them into the laundry hamper and stripped off my jeans, too.
    “A shower sounds nice.”
    “So nice,” I said, smiling. Cameron smiled back, and I felt a wave of warmth in my chest. It felt good to be home again.
    I took a towel out of the cabinet and turned on the water, letting it get to a nice temperature as I finished undressing. I stepped into the stream of warm water and shivered, raising goosebumps on my arms and neck. It seemed silly, but it made me happy to be in my own bathroom after so long in hotels.
    I hummed contentedly without tune as I washed my hair, and while rinsing out the shampoo, I saw Cameron’s silhouette through the shower curtain.
    “I’ll be done soon,” I told him over the sound of the water. “Then you can get in.”
    Cameron poked his head around the edge of the curtain and smirked. “I can’t get in now?” He was feigning disappointment, but his grin was too obvious.
    I giggled, smiling back at him. “Oh, well… I won’t stop you.”
    With that, Cameron pulled back the curtain enough for him to step into the shower. ‘He was already naked,’ I thought in surprise.
    “Water’s warm,” he noted happily.
    I let him enjoy the downpour of hot water as he let it run over his hair. He had closed his eyes, but my own were focused on his chest. I felt my face redden as I watched him; I could see the muscles of his arms and sides moving as he combed through his hair with his fingers.
    We hadn’t had many opportunities for intimacy while staying with my sister, other than one night spent on a blanket on the floor, and this felt shockingly intimate in comparison.
    “See something you like?”
    I blushed to a deep red at his teasing. “More than like,” I corrected, meeting his gaze. His grin widened and I bit my lip. “And I see a lot of it.”
    Cameron moved closer and put one hand on my waist, the other reaching up to my cheek as he spoke softly. “Do you?”
    “Yeah, I do,” I answered quietly. I wanted to tell Cameron how beautiful he was, but any urge to speak dissolved when he kissed me. His lips were eager against mine and I replied with the same need, feeling as if I’d burst into flames with wanting.
    I could tell that he didn’t want to break the kiss, but we eventually broke apart. “You’re blushing,” he pointed out, a satisfied look on his face. He moved his hands to my lower back and held me against him.
    “And you’re hard,” I retorted, though I couldn’t suppress a giggle.
    Cameron laughed too, and moved his hands lower. His fingertips pressed into my cheeks, and in one swift movement he was trailing his lips on my neck and collarbone. “Did you expect me not to be?” he murmured between kisses. “I have a gorgeous woman in my arms. And not only is she nude, but she’s wet, too.”
    “I’m certainly getting there,” I whispered.
    I felt Cameron’s warm breath on my skin as he laughed, giving my shoulder a soft kiss before lifting his head to look at me. I had no time to think before his lips met mine with an urgency that made me want him even more. His hands moved along my skin, softly at first, but with an increasing grip as I slid my tongue along his bottom lip.
    I could feel him against me as we kissed, and we didn’t speak for a long while. Only when his hand gripped my inner thigh and I moaned, did the silence break.
    “Get on the counter.” Cameron’s voice was deep and I knew he wasn’t asking.
    I stepped onto the bath mat and from there lifted myself onto the counter. Cameron shut the water off and, dripping wet, walked towards me. He lightly trailed his fingers on my legs, and I watched as he moved closer to my waist. With a flash of deviance, I kept my legs tightly closed.
    Cameron raised his eyebrows, but didn’t ask a question. “Open your legs.”
    I smirked, unable to help myself. “Nope,” I challenged.
    He flexed his hands, still on my thigh, and nearly demanded it. “Emily.”
    “Cameron,” I replied casually, though with a giggle.
    He lifted his head and stared at me, his eyes boring into mine. “Open your legs.” He’d nearly growled, saying each word as its own sentence.
    My devilish grin widened, and I met his gaze head-on. “You’ll have to make me.”
    Within a second he was kissing me, furiously demanding I listen to him. His hands ran the length of my chest and his thumb grazed my nipple, making me moan against him. I couldn’t keep up the charade of hesitancy, though, and let his hand make its way between my legs.
    I shivered at his touch. Cameron took this as it was intended and dropped to his knees, pulling me closer to the edge of the counter. I gasped when his lips met me, and wasn’t able to do anything but whimper as he went from eager to voracious. I whispered encouragement to him, with my legs over his shoulders, and groaned when I felt the beginnings of an orgasm within me.
    “That’s not fair,” I whimpered between heavy breaths. Cameron hummed inquisitively, his mouth still against me and no sign of stopping. “You’ll make me—” A loud moan escaped me, and I couldn’t finish my sentence. Cameron laughed, sending vibrations through me, and I felt a surge rising.
    I let out a startled “oh!” when I felt it. The heat spread and dripped down my legs, leaving me moaning and struggling for air. Cameron was moaning too, and slowly extracting himself from between my legs.
    “You gushed,” he groaned excitedly. “Fuck, that’s so hot.”
    It didn’t happen often, but this wasn’t the first time I’d gushed. Even if I had wanted to be shy about it, Cameron gave me no time to feel that way. He got to his feet and put one hand on my waist and the other between my legs. I yelped in surprise, which only made him chuckle.
    “You’re ready for me.”
    He wasn’t asking. But he wasn’t wrong, either.


    “I see why the French say fountain woman. Femme fontaine,” Cameron chuckled from the bed.
    I’d just walked out of the bathroom, having showered again, and shook my head as I made my way over to him. “I should have never taught you French.”
    “And why not?”
    “Because now you think you’re witty,” I rebuked, though I had difficulty hiding my smile.
    I lowered myself onto the bed and Cameron pulled me into his arms. “What, I’m not witty?”
    I sighed, trying to sound disappointed. “You’re rather dull most of the time, really.”
    Cameron laughed and tightened his grip on me. “Really?” he demanded skeptically. “You didn’t seem to think I was dull earlier.”
    I shifted to face him, though I let him keep holding me. “Well, now, that’s a different story,” I explained, a sly grin on my face.
    He kissed me, and brushed the hair out of my face when we pulled apart. “We probably should have put a towel down,” he whispered, winking. “I’ll have to keep that in mind for next time.”
    My cheeks grew red and I glanced away, but Cameron turned my face towards him. "My love, you're not embarrassed, are you?" he asked worriedly.
    I shrugged, though I moved so little that it was more of a twitch.
    "That's the last thing you should be embarrassed about," he immediately affirmed. "It's happened before, hasn't it?"
    His question was rhetorical but I murmured in agreement.
    Cameron lifted my chin so that our eyes met. "It turned me on last time, but tonight," he whispered. "You were so sexy I thought I was going to come right then and there."
    I warmed with shyness, and Cameron's devilish smile only added to it. "Alright, Casanova," I joked.
    Cameron smiled, but his eyes were soft. "Casanova was a man of many women, and I am a man of only you."
    We kissed, and settled into the comfort of our bed. Time passed— what felt like hours— but I could tell by the depth of Cameron's breathing that he wasn't asleep. And though I tried to quiet the thoughts running through my mind, I couldn't seem to keep them away long enough to fall asleep.
    When Cameron eventually spoke, his voice was mildly hoarse. "What had your sister written in those letters?"
    "You were thinking about that, too?"
    "More or less," he admitted. "I was remembering what Lee had said to me, and I told him he was an idiot to have shut his mouth."
    I nodded, though my head was laying on Cameron's chest. "He listened to you, if it makes you feel better," I offered.
    "He told her that he loves her?"
    I didn't think Liliane would ever find out even if I did tell Cameron what she'd divulged over the phone, but felt it was better to be safe than sorry. “I’m sworn to secrecy. But he certainly opened his mouth and said things.”
    “I fret over it too much, then,” he told me. “Your sister’s mad for him too, and I don’t think she’d let him get away that easily.”