Chapter 15

June 30, 2017

Dear Ms. Diary,

[Written on July 2, 2017]

I woke to the feeling that I was being watched. I gathered my wits, thinking about where I was, and when. Oh, yeah. My face must have lit up, but I know that I felt myself grinning like an idiot. I turned my head to face Rhee’s side of the bed ... Wait a minute. When did that happen, that Rhee has an official side of my ... our? ... bed? Anyway, I turned toward her and discovered a grin that could not have been less goofy than mine.

That grin opened and whispered, “Morning.”

Feeling a bit perverse, I replied in what I hoped was in the ballpark of an Irish accent and replied, “And top o’ the mornin’ to you, too, lassie. Do we know what time it is?”

“I don’t know if ‘we’ do, but I do,” responded Rhee, obviously also feeling perverse.

“All right, smart-ass, what time is it?”

Rhee’s grin got extra crazy, but then she relented, “Shortly after 7:30.”

“Wow. That may have been the best night’s sleep that I’ve gotten in a long time. I mean, we can’t have gotten to sleep much later than 10.”

“Yeah. Maybe we need to watch your parents fuck on the kitchen table and then have wild-monkey sex ourselves anytime that we start getting sleep-deprived. And, by the way, I will never look at that table in the same way, again.”

I chortled. “I know. It’ll be ... well ... at least a bit odd to sit at that table with them for a meal.”

Rhee’s query, “Shower time,” was accompanied by that left-eyebrow raise. “I imagine that we must smell like sex.”

I inhaled, exhaled loudly, and sighed. “But I’m so comfy,” I whined. Then grinned at Rhee.

“Come on, girl,” she replied as she threw off the sheet.

I followed her lead and headed to the bathroom. While Rhee peed, I got the showerheads running; we then traded places. Rhee was washing her hair when I stepped in the shower and I started in on mine. As I was rinsing my hair, with my head leaned back, I suddenly felt a mouth on my left breast along with a tongue on that nipple and a hand kneading my right breast.

“Hey, no fondling the Assistant Coach while she’s got shampoo on her face.”

The hand and mouth moved off my body. I was mentally pouting, when Rhee said, “Okay. There’s no more shampoo on your face,” and she returned to my breasts, only this time, the mouth attacked my right breast.

I was having trouble concentrating on finishing the rinse, but eventually managed it, all the while having my breasts lovingly mauled. As soon as I finished, Rhee stood up, tenderly put her arms around me, and said in my ear, “Good morning, Beth.”

I almost started sobbing. It may seem silly, but that was the loveliest, most romantic thing that I’ve ever experienced. Rhee loves me. How is it that I can know that I’m not gay, but feel so wonderful, thrilled even, that Rhee loves me romantically? And I know that I am in love with her. How is that possible?

Rhee must have felt the slight tremors that my emotional storm created, as she hugged me even more tightly. I wrapped my arms around her and turned my head to the side and rested it on her shoulder, the shower stream washing my tears off her shoulder.

After a short time, I know not how long, a voice whispered in my ear, “Are you okay?”

I tried to nod my head, but the position that it was in did not really permit such. I lifted my head and leaned back to look into her eyes. “I’m ... Hmm. I’m okay, I think. I’m also confused. One thing about which that I’m not confused is that I love you.”

Rhee interrupted, “I love you, too.”

“I wasn’t quite finished. I love you. But I love you...,” I inhaled deeply and continued, a bit fearful. “I love you as if you were the love of my life.”

Rhee started to interject, but I shook my head, rather violently, and continued down this scary course upon which I had decided (when did that happen?).

“I’ve not been in love before, but I feel it – so strongly – that I love you as if you were a boy or man. But I also know that I really want to make love to my dad, and I am sexually intrigued by the possibility that Brett presents. I don’t think that I’m gay ... a lesbian. How could I be, when I am sexually interested in two males, one with whom I’d agree right now to a long-term sexual relationship? I’m confused ... and scared.”

“Scared? I don’t know that I’ve seen you scared. You’re so strong, confident.”

“Terrified is a more-correct term. Is it just the sex? I really hope not.”

That got me squeezed again.

“Beth, I love you. So, you’re confused; I am, too. What do two 14-year-olds know about love? Alone, in bed, I often catch myself thinking about us, us as a couple. I was serious the other night: I would be very happy living with you. But, I, too, want your dad in a sexual relationship. I don’t know Brett well enough to have any feelings in any direction for him, but I can also imagine having sex with some other male. But I want you. Again, I would enjoy living with you as lovers. But, and this is a big ‘but,’ if we cannot have your dad, then we need to move to a different city. It would be just too frustrating with him at hand all the time, but not available.”

She chuckled and grinned. I smiled, then pulled her in tightly, rubbing my hands up and down her back. About then, I could feel the water temperature declining. How long had we been in there?! We disengaged and did a quick-and-dirty wash of bodies that got us out of the shower before the water temperature became unbearable.

We dried our hair, which took the usual epoch, and went back to the bedroom. Without thinking, I opened my panty drawer and pulled out a pair.

“What do you think you’re doing, young lady?”

I startled, but then snickered and shook my head. “My mind was obviously elsewhere. I’m starving, let’s get some breakfast.”

We trundled downstairs to find Mom about to depart for work.

“It’s about time, you slug-a-beds. Or, should I say, slug-a-showers?”

I rolled my eyes at her and said, “Good morning to you, too, Mom. Have a nice day at work,” and then smirked at her.

“You will get your come-uppance, young lady, and I hope that I can be there to smirk at you when it happens!”

I laughed and walked over and hugged Mom. “I love you.”

Her arms then went around me, “I love you very much, Dear.” She then unwrapped me and stepped back. “Have a good practice, you two.”

She then turned and headed for the garage. I then got my first look at a clock today.

“Holy shit, it’s 8:40! No leisurely breakfast for us!”

Rhee shrugged her shoulders and grabbed the Cheerios. I got out bowls and spoons; Rhee got the milk.

Rhee and I were dressed and gathering our things for practice and about to walk out the door when my phone rang. I looked at it and answered.

“Hi, Coach.”

I was looking at Rhee at the time, and she lifted that eyebrow.

On the phone, I heard Coach say, “Hi, Beth. I’ll be at your place in a few minutes, please don’t leave.”

“Okay. What’s up?”

“When I get there. Later.”

And she hung up.

I looked at Rhee and before she could ask, I said “I don’t know. She was very abrupt, but she’s heading here. Something must have happened. I’ll wager that she can’t make practice.”

Just a minute or so later, we heard a car in the drive, so we opened the door and went out to meet Coach.

As she was getting out of her car, she started talking, “I’ve got to go to Cleveland. My mom fell and she’s in surgery now. There’s no one to care for her once she’s checked out of the hospital, and I’m the only sibling that can get there today. I’m rushing to make a plane. You two, grab your stuff and I’ll drive you to the field.”

Since we were ready to go, we just grabbed our soccer bags, closed the front door, and got in Coach’s car.

“I’m really sorry, Beth, but you’ll have to run today’s practice and, probably Monday’s. I hope to be back Monday night. I’ll stay in touch so that you’ll know what you’ll have to do. The crazy thing is that my brothers and I had been talking about getting her into assisted living. Obviously, we didn’t start that discussion soon enough.”

“Oh,” I said, “that’s sad.”

“Yeah,” Coach replied, “none of us live near her anymore, so we’ve delayed doing something, just because it’s difficult for any of us to get there, particularly me during season. This was the problem to which I alluded yesterday.”

“Don’t worry, Coach, I ... we all can deal with it.”

“Thanks, Beth. And Rhee. I know that you’ll help. I was going to suggest to you today that we name a Co-Captain, so someone else can take at least some stuff off your plate. Being Captain has enough duties without adding Assistant Coach to your stack of titles. Who would you suggest?”

“Ann,” I said without hesitation. “She can speak for the defense, but she’s also got a great head on her shoulders.” I turned to Rhee and said, “I’m not slighting you, Rhee. But I voted for Ann for Captain and I still think that she’d be good in that role.”

Coach spoke up, saying, “I agree. Ann, it is. Please, don’t be afraid to delegate, but as some say, ‘Trust, but verify.’ Although, that has always seemed something of an oxymoron to me.”

That made me think back to the beginning of my captaincy, and I nodded.

“I understand.” I turned to Rhee again. “I can count on you to help out, right?”

“Absolutely! Just let me know.”

At this point, we were pulling into the parking area at the practice pitch.

Coach said over her shoulder, “Rhee, would you get the bag of balls out of the trunk?”

“Sure.”

“Beth, also in the trunk is a bag of stuff that you might need if I don’t make it for the game on Tuesday. I will let you know as soon as my return is confirmed, though it might be by text.”

“Okay, Coach. We’ll handle things. Just take care of your mom; the team will be fine.”

“Thanks, Beth.” And then she hugged me. I was a bit flabbergasted, as she’d never hugged any of us before. At least, not that I knew. But I hugged her back.

She continued, “I knew that I could count on you. I’m off.”

She got in her idling car and drove off. I looked at Rhee and she at me.

“Huh,” I said. “I’m sure glad that we were ready to go.”

“You got that right, girl.”

“Hey, before the team gets here, what do you think of Heather, team-wise.”

“I don’t know her that well; she’s pretty quiet. I do know that she’s wicked fast. I’m faster with the ball than she is, but she’s no slouch there.”

“Yeah. Those were the things that I was thinking about yesterday. She’s going to have to step into Lissa’s position as a starter, so I hope that you’ll help her out.”

“Of course, ... but I feel that you’re thinking larger. If so, give.”

“Well, I’ve got an idea how to use her. I mean, with her speed, there’s no reason to have her play the wing like we have Lissa playing it. They have quite different skill sets, unless Heather’s hidden Messi-like dribbling ability.”

“I don’t think so. Yeah, she’s fast, even with the ball, but I’ve never seen her juke someone out of her shorts.”

“Me either. The immediate need is to make her feel welcome on the starting front line and help her out, if you see that she needs it. My attention is going to be scattered more widely than usual.”

Rhee hugged me. “I’ve got your back.”

I squeezed her tight.

“Thanks.”

Rhee squeezed me even harder.

“I see a couple of cars coming, so we should probably stop acting like lovers, though, I guess that’s what we are,” but turned it into a question with rising inflection and raised left eyebrow.

I started, then nodded at her. She’s right, no matter how odd it seems. Then, while tugging the ball bag over to the sideline where we usually meet, I turned to see who was arriving. As per usual, the first to arrive immediately started stretching, and Rhee and I joined Mia, Ann, and Gracey in that task. The rest of the team arrived over the next ten minutes, and I let the newly arrived get their stretching in, though I moseyed over to Ann and pulled her aside.

“Would you be willing to serve as Co-Captain?”

Ann looked hard at me, her brain obviously working at hyper speed. “Yeah, okay.”

“Thanks. I’ll announce it. Basically, you’ve got the Captain’s duties anytime that I’m playing at Coach, which will probably be fulltime today and Monday,” and I looked at her for a response.

She nodded, and I continued. “I don’t know anywhere near enough to actually fill in completely for Coach, so I’ll be leaning on you and some others to keep from dropping balls.”

“No prob, Beth. I’ve got it. I assume that Coach isn’t here today. What’s with that?”

“In a minute.”

In thanks, I hugged her quickly.

Once it appeared that all had gotten at least initial stretches in, I called the rally. After they were all standing and I had their attention, I started explaining.

“Coach had a family emergency this morning and she’s on her way to Cleveland.” A bunch of ‘oh’s indicated support for Coach; she was well liked by the team. “We’re on our own for today and, probably, for Monday. She said that she hopes to be back before Tuesday’s game, but she wasn’t sure. So, how about a quick moment to wish Coach and her mother well?”

After about ten seconds of silence, I continued.

“We’ll start out with the usual. Today, Rhee gets to lead calisthenics. But, first, Coach and I have an announcement. Because I’m now saddled with something like three jobs, Coach wanted to appoint a Co-Captain. Since Ann came in second in the voting for Captain, second to that no-talent bimbo who is the current Captain,” I paused, hoping for at least snickers and got them, “Ann was the obvious choice. She has agreed, so please welcome your new Co-Captain.”

Mia, who was Ann’s best friend on the team – they often rode together to team events – chimed in.

“Welcome, Co-Captain. Which shoe do I need to kiss to keep my starting position?”

Snickers and chuckles resulted.

Ann shot back, “Oh, it’s not a shoe that you need to kiss.”

Guffawing ensued.

“Okay, gang. Let’s get started on the fun part of practice. Rhee?”

Rhee led calisthenics and we did the usual three laps of the field. As I finished, I had everyone gather around, again.

“Ann, Mia, and Padme, please set up a dribbling course. Once it’s set up, I want everyone to run through it twice.”

The assigned three grabbed the cones and went at it, the others following, each grabbing a soccer ball from the bag. I walked over to Heather and pulled her aside.

“Hey, I’d like to talk an idea over with you.”

She looked a bit nervous, but looked me in the eyes and responded, “Okay.”

“Rhee says that you’re almost as fast as her with the ball, but that you’re probably the fastest person on the team. Is that right?”

“I guess. Well, I know that Rhee’s faster with the ball and that I’m faster than her without it, but there might be someone faster. I just don’t know for sure.”

“Okay. How’s your wind?”

“Pretty good, I think. At least, I’m usually the first one to finish wind sprints.”

“Yeah, come to think of it, I’ve noticed that. I’ve been thinking about ... No, let’s start this way. Unless you don’t want it, we’re considering you for filling in for Lissa while she’s down with that ankle.”

Her eyes lit up and she started a response, but stopped, took a breath, and then said, “I’d love to do that. I like right wing best and I think that my skill set fits well there. My right is a fair bit better than my left and I’m pretty good at crossing.”

“Yeah, that’s my recollection. So, what I’m thinking about is designing the position’s duties around your skills, which are different from Lissa’s. If my idea works out well, we may need to change our offensive plan a bit. Anyway, with your speed, I’d like to use you as a streaker. We define that as different from a runner, as it’s an offensive player, usually a forward, that takes off toward the goal upon a change of possession in our end of the field in hopes that someone can boot it long and set up a one-on-one with the goalie. Rhee has been our de facto streaker, as you might have noticed. Though what planning we did for that was done last year. We seem not to have explained that to the new team members. Hmm. We’ll have to do something about that.

“Anyway, being a streaker means you’re gonna need to like to run ... and run a lot.” She nodded, so I continued. “We’ll need to get Mia and Rhee ... oh, and Padme, involved in a larger discussion, but that’s the bare bones of my idea. Interested?”

“That sounds great! But I’ll do whatever the team needs.”

Her face, though, looked a bit confused.

“Okay. Let’s go grab the others that we need and get talking about what we’ll have you do.”

Ann had kept the rest of the team doing dribbling practice while I finished up my talk with Heather.

“Ann, please set up the backup offense against the starting D, and cycle whomever’s left through it.”

“Okee-dokee.” She then turned and yelled, “Gather ‘round!”

I guess that we’ve all picked up that rally call from Coach. I intercepted Rhee, Mia, and Padme and had them join Heather and me.

“If Coach cannot make Tuesday, you four are the starting offense. Even if Coach can make it, I want you, Padme, involved in certain decisions about how we’re going to use Heather while Lissa is out. There’s little doubt that you’ll have some field time running the O, even if I don’t have to fill in for Coach.”

Padme nodded and then I noticed Lissa on the sideline. With crutches. That cannot be good.

“Let’s go join Lissa, as her input would be useful.”

As we got near Lissa, I asked “Hey, what’s the story?”

“It’s not all that bad, but my doctor wanted me to use the ankle as little as possible this week and then we’d see how it goes from then. It doesn’t hurt too badly now, and I’m not on serious meds. I don’t doubt that I’ll miss this week’s games, but I’m hopeful that I can make the following Thursday’s.”

“Okay. It’s good to know what we don’t have, as well as what we do have. But, and this is Coach talking, I’d rather have you miss next Thursday’s game than screw something up and not be available later,” and looked at her hard.

Lissa nodded and said, “I’ll be good; I don’t want that either.”

“Okay,” I replied. “Now, since you’re here when you don’t have to be, your dance card probably isn’t filled and you’ve got some free time...” and I arched my brows at her, to which she nodded. “I’d like you involved in the discussion of how we’re going to involve your temporary replacement, which is Heather.”

Again, Lissa nodded.

“The important bits are that Heather is probably the fastest member of the team without the ball, and darned fast with it.” There was a general murmur of agreement, so I pushed on. “Since her style will be different from yours, Lissa, we need to come up with a plan on how to use that style. Heather’s fast and she’s good at wind sprints, so I thought to use her as our primary streaker. No, that’s not quite right. I think that we should set her up so that if she sees an opportunity, to simply go for it.”

I glanced sidelong at Heather to see her response. Her eyes were shining, no doubt of that.

“Padme, as you know – as all of us know, the sweeper is often the decision point for booting one to a streaker. So, if we’re collapsed into our end so much that you’re getting involved in D, I want you to keep an extra eye peeled on Heather and if it looks like you can get her the ball ... onside ... then get her the ball. Heather, if the ball does not come and you wind up behind the defense, figure that the ball is not coming and get back onside. Okay?”

“Yup. Got it,” she replied, her eyes had moved beyond shining to glowing.

“Rhee, you’re a superb streaker in your own right, and I don’t expect you to change your modus operandi. However, if Heather streaks and she’s in front of you, I’d like you to put yourself in a position to support her. Yes?”

“Sure, that’s obvious. But what about Mia?”

“Ah, that’s the question I was going to ask. Anyone?”

Lissa looked down, but then lifted her head.

“I suggest that if Mia sees the ball heading to a streaking Heather, that she’ll know that Rhee will follow Heather. Therefore, Mia should, assuming that Heather isn’t streaking down the center, move toward the center to provide an outlet option that might not be covered by the defense, as they’ll probably shift to their left. In fact, they’ll have to shift left, because no sane defense will leave Rhee unguarded in front of the goal.”

We all snickered.

I followed with, “That’s quite true. That means, Padme, that the sweeper will have to serve as support for Mia, but also as another outlet option for either Heather or Rhee, so position yourself accordingly. Also, taking Lissa’s expectation of how the defense will respond, and I think that Lissa is right, then Zala, or whomever is playing right half, should follow Heather and Rhee in, both to provide an outlet in a different direction, but also to provide a first layer of defense in the case of a counter-attack should Heather or Rhee lose the ball. Thoughts? Questions?”

Heather looked like she had one, though seemed hesitant to voice it. So, I put her on the spot.

“Heather?”

“Ummm, I like the plan for me; it sounds fun. I’m just a little concerned that I didn’t think about all these bits of ... strategy? Tactics? Yeah, tactics ... for something as seemingly simple as lobbing the ball to a forward behind the defense. At least, this sort of ... um ... layered response was never part of our discussions on my last team.”

She seemed to notice that Rhee was winding up to respond, so she held up her hand.

“Oh, I think it’s great. I just never realized that there was more involved in...” she paused and screwed up her face, obviously thinking furiously, “um, deeper offensive tactics, I guess.”

Rhee’s face cleared of concern and she came back with, “Hah! You ain’t seen nothin’, yet. I know that you’re new and weren’t with us at the beginning of the season. This ... this, my dear Heather, is the main reason that Beth is Captain and why all of us old salts follow at her heels, as I’ve been doing since we were 9. I think that she dreams soccer strategy and tactics.”

Mia shouted, “May I have an ‘amen?’”

Rhee, Lissa, and Padme followed on cue, “Amen!”

I rolled my eyes.

Mia continued, “Yeah, Heather, now that you’re on the starting offense, you’ll have to put up with a lot more of this! You now may sit at the feet of the Master with all of us other acolytes,” and she proceeded to genuflect at my feet.

“Get up, girl,” I said to Mia, “before I make you run five more laps.”

Mia rushed to stand and replied, “Yes, Master. Whatever you say, Master. I live to serve, Master.”

I whapped her upside the head.

“Umm,” said Heather, “My last team didn’t really consider any of the things that you guys mentioned. We were told to “get open.” Then her face got a look something short of awe, but approaching it, and she finished with, “I guess that I just didn’t understand that you guys play on such a different level. Because I didn’t understand, I felt ... not ostracized, but that’s close. You guys rock. I want in, into the elite club, not that I think that you guys are elitist ... but...”

Rhee, bless her soul, just stepped over to Heather and hugged her.

She added, “Hey, you’re on the starting offense, at least for now, so you’re automatically in. I’ve got to warn you, though. If you see Beth and Lissa sitting somewhere with their heads together, they’re delving into deep, deep, deep strategy and tactics. Most of us just turn around and pretend that we didn’t see them.”

Mia shouted, “May I have another ‘amen?’”

Rhee, Lissa, and Padme were joined by Heather in shouting, “Amen!”

“All right, you guys, go replace the backup offense and kick that defense’s butt.” After a second, I added, “But don’t tell the D that I said that.”

After we finished up the active part of practice, I sat the team down and discussed the new plan for the offense, making sure that Zala knew her task with a streaking Heather. Lissa is more of a ball-control forward, as she can out-dribble nearly anyone, so she usually wound up supporting a streaking Rhee, rather than streaking herself. I also reminded everyone else that anyone could boot for a streaker if she saw it happening and if she had the space required to kick a long ball. That is, despite that the usual outlet for a counterattack from the defense being one of the midfielders or the sweeper.

As we were breaking up for the day, I again pulled Heather aside, though Rhee was right there, too.

“Hey. On Monday, anytime that you’re shooting, whether for shot practice or in scrimmaging, I want you to shoot only with your left,” and I cocked my head and raised my brows at her.

“Yeah, okay. I know that I need more skill there.”

“Do you watch soccer videos on YouTube,” Rhee asked.

Heather turned to her with a puzzled look and replied, “Some.”

“Do you know who Messi is?”

“Yeah. Striker. Barcelona.”

That took Rhee a bit aback, and she came off her tack.

“Oh, you will fit right in, girl.” Then she turned to me with that eyebrow raised, “Afternoon for the offense watching Barça?”

“Hmm. Let’s think about that. It’s a good idea, but who do we include and, by extension, exclude? Just the starting offense? All offense? Midfielders? And where? Your house, as you guys have that big screen. But the room is too small for too large a gang.” I turned to face Heather more directly, as I noticed Gracey approaching. “By the way, where do you live?”

“A couple blocks north of here.”

“Well, hell, girl,” Rhee responded, “you’re practically a neighbor. I’m only two blocks south of here and Beth is another block south, though off to the east. We regularly do a little pick-up play here or just kick the ball around. You should join us.”

I jumped in. “Yeah. What’s your number? You know, I should probably have every ... oh. I’ll bet everyone’s phone numbers are in the stuff that Coach left for me.”

“Regardless. Heather, ready for my number,” Rhee asked, then proceeded to recite it to Heather.

Heather then dialed it, giving Rhee her number. When that was done, Gracey spoke up.

“You guys ready to go?”

Rhee and I got a ride home from Gracey’s mom; the ball-and-cone bag would have made that a difficult walk home.

“Thanks, a lot, Mrs. García. We’re going to be getting together tomorrow around noon, if that’s good for you, Gracey, Mrs. García.”

Gracey looked at her mom, who replied, “I’ll drop the duo around noon, then. Later.”

Rhee and I went in through the garage so that we could drop the ball bag in the mud room. As we exited the mud room, Rhee started stripping.

“This is great! Something like 24 hours without having to wear clothes!”

“What if we go out to dinner?”

She snorted. “Like your mom will pass up a chance to do the culinary thing.”

“Nah,” I responded, “I think that she’s working late, today.”

That gave Rhee pause. “Well, what if we made dinner? I know that you can cook some things and I can certainly help.”

After we both came back downstairs from my room where we stashed our soccer bags and clothes, I went to the fridge and started pulling lunch makings out, all the while checking to see what we have that I might use for dinner. There was ricotta and provolone, so lasagna was doable. As Rhee started building sandwiches, I texted Mom.

“If it’s ok, I’ll make lasagna for dinner.”

We were cleaning up our lunch mess when Mom finally got a chance to answer my text: “Go for it. Thx.”

Since we had plenty of time to get it made, we went upstairs for our post-practice shower. Finally. We weren’t too frisky in the shower, but I couldn’t help but remember the shower that we took this morning. The stomach butterflies reminded me that I am still confused over the ‘Us’ that is us. Happy, but confused.

We spent a couple hours trying to track down as many videos as we could find of Lionel Messi shooting right-footed, all for ammunition to keep Heather focused on improving her left-foot ability. We also got to talking about a subject that Rhee introduced, the possibility of going to a four-position front line, if Heather worked out. We both agreed that, with her speed, if her dribbling was even somewhat better than average and her positioning sense was good, that it would be criminal to keep her out of the starting line-up. We hashed out some options, including who gets demoted to make room for another offensive player or, more pointedly, do we scrap the sweeper position.

The lasagna was baking, the garlic bread was ready to go in the oven at the appropriate time, the table was set (and Rhee made more than one comment about the table, suggesting enshrining it), and we were working on a salad when someone came in the back door.