"I like him, Summer."
Summer glowed. "I'm glad. I knew you would. The two of you have a lot in common, actually. I told him that the day after I met him."
"Did you?" Spring cut the last tomato and reached for a cucumber. "I loved the letters you sent me about your, um, unusual courtship. Swept you right off your feet, didn't he?"
"I'll say," Summer agreed with a laugh. "He told me he loved me exactly one week and two days after we met. Scared me witless."
"Why?"
"I thought it was infatuation, that he'd change his mind after getting to know me better. I was already so crazy about him by then that I knew I'd be destroyed if he left. Thank God he was able to convince me that what he felt was real."
Spring sighed wistfully. "I envy you, Summer. You and Derek look so happy. So do Connie and Joel."
Summer turned and leaned back against the counter, studying her sister's face. "So what happened between you and Roger? All I know is that you were seeing him steadily for several months and then you stopped."
Spring tried to look as if she were concentrating on the cucumber in front of her. "Nothing really happened," she replied vaguely. "It just didn't work out."
"Funny, that's exactly the same thing you said when you broke up with James and then Gary."
"So what can I say?" Spring asked lightly. "None of them worked out. I guess I'm just not cut out for permanence in my relationships."
"Don't give me that. You wouldn't envy Connie and me so much if you didn't want the same thing for yourself. I've always thought you were the type who wanted marriage and children as well as your career."
"I do," Spring confessed. "Very much. But every time I start thinking of permanence with any of the men I've dated, I begin to back out of the relationship. I must be more attached to my single state than I realize."
"Or maybe you prefer your single state over marriage to any of the men you've dated," Summer countered. "I never met Roger, but if he was anything like James and Gary, we're talking b-o-r-i-n-g."
"They weren't— Well, maybe they were a little boring, but they were all fine, respectable men."
"So maybe you don't want a fine, respectable man. Maybe what you need is a bit of a scoundrel."
"Don't be ridiculous."
"Who's being ridiculous?" Summer demanded. "This is your sister you're talking to, Spring Deborah Reed. I know who your heroes were when you were growing up. You drooled over old Clark Gable films, you kept a poster of Burt Reynolds taped to your closet door and M*A*S*H was your all-time favorite television program because Hawkeye Pierce made you break out in a sweat. More recently you've had a not-so-secret crush on Harrison Ford. These are not fine, respectable men, Sis. They're scoundrels."
"All very well for fantasy, but not for real life. Look at me, Summer. I'm an average, unexciting optometrist who is perfectly content to live her entire life in Little Rock, Arkansas. I'm not exactly Carole Lombard, who wouldn't have been happy with anything but a scoundrel, as you put it."
"I am looking at you," Summer replied seriously. "I see a beautiful blonde who's always had to be the responsible big sister, the pride and joy of the Reed family, the only one in several generations to finish college and go on to graduate work. The only one ever to earn the title Doctor."
"A term of respect. I'm not an M.D."
"But you're a damned good optometrist. You've told me so many times," Summer added with a smile. "You're also bored. Admit it."
Spring abandoned the cucumber. "Okay," she conceded, turning to face her sister. "Sometimes I get a little bored. Not with my work—I love that. But my personal life is not exactly scintillating. If I kept a diary, it would look very little different than my appointment calendar at the office. Not just nonfiction but noninteresting."
&
nbsp; "So what are you going to do about it?"
"I have no idea. What would you suggest?"
"Fall madly in love, get married and have a houseful of kids," Summer suggested promptly.
"Sounds lovely, but since I'm not even dating anyone at this time, it's a bit impractical."
"Okay, so have an affair. A crazy, no-strings-attached, passionate affair. Clay's already volunteered, as a matter of fact."
Spring flushed vividly. "You discussed this with that...with Clay?"