Sugar and Spice and Everything Nice by Nexxie Part III J.R. panicked, thinking fast. "We hope I don't find out that Mrs. Martin, from the nursing home fire, fell through the cracks in the system." J.R. voiced the other matter of concern to him. Nichols looked surprised at his young friend's rapid response. He thinks quick on his feet, Del admitted. It was patently obvious to Kit Crawford that J.R. was concealing the truth, but he decided to let it ride. "Mrs. Martin, wasn't she the one with the twisted ankle?" Crawford recalled the woman been frightened until J.R. talked with her. "Yeah, I went back to see her later that morning and she was real scared. She says she lost everything she in the fire---clothes, pictures---everything. And I think she maybe doesn't have family that cares too much. She said her grandson doesn't come around much anymore. Do you suppose there's anything I could do to help?" Kit thought a while and then snapped his fingers. "Yeah, kid, maybe there is. Let me make a phone call." As Crawford headed toward the phone, Nichols shook his head and commented sotto voce, "Nice save, J.R." J.R. blushed. He didn't like deceiving Kit, but he also didn't feel like sharing his feelings for Jennifer with the rest of the world. A few minutes later Crawford returned, a satisfied smile on his face. "We need to find out where she was taken, first of all," he began. "Then there's a senior citizen's organization here in Carson that will help her out with visits and donations of clothing...whatever she needs. They will even contact her family and try to get copies of her pictures and stuff. I help sometimes with their fundraisers and I've met them professionally. They're a nice bunch." At Del's raised eyebrows, Kit explained, "We've runs where some of their members heart attacks, broken hips, other stuff. They always take care of their own, and when you mentioned that Mrs. Martin doesn't have anyone, I immediately thought of USC...United Seniors of Carson." "Thanks, Kit," J.R. said, relieved. Truthfully he was worried about the woman. He would visit her, he figured, in her new home and see how she was getting along...just to make sure. "STATION 51...POSSIBLE HEART ATTACK...1315 MILL STREET...1-3-1-5 MILL STREET...CROSS STREET PIKE...TIME OUT 10:47" They're keeping Dad busy today, J.R. thought. "STATION 15...STRUCTURE FIRE...7277 LANE AVENUE...7-2-7-7 LANE...TIME OUT 10:48" This time the tones were for them. Cap Riley acknowledged the call and jumped to his spot on the engine, noting his men were already in place. They're keeping us busy today, Johnny thought as Big Red headed toward the possible heart attack. Captain Gage time for a shower and a change of uniform before the second call of the day. His good mood remained intact. ******************* Joe Early and Dixie McCall arrived at Station 51 promptly at noon. Mike Morton and a doctor from orthopedics were covering the ER while they were gone. Kelly Brackett finally managed a week-long fishing trip with his father, a trip planned almost three months ago. He was sorry to miss what was sure to be a fun party, but sent his card and gift along with Joe and Dixie. "I remember another birthday party twelve years ago, Dix", he told her. "Johnny would have been happy for me to miss that one." He was thinking of the party Dixie threw for Johnny when the law not yet been passed to certify and license paramedics. Johnny was still a smart-alec kid and he hadn't seen eye-to-eye with Kelly Bracket. They'd come a long way since then, gaining mutual respect and finally friendship. Marilyn Dwyer and Penny Taylor, Charlie and Rudy's wives engaged in lighthearted conversation while they blew up a myriad of balloons in primary colors. A sheet cake that proclaimed, "Happy Birthday, Cap Gage" sat on the kitchen table amidst a pile of presents in a variety of brightly-colored wrapping paper. Dixie set the presents she was carrying beside the others and began to help Marilyn and Penny, both of whom she met before. Joe Early picked up a roll of crepe streamers and started in draping it from corner to corner in the kitchen and dayroom. "How long have they been gone?" Penny Taylor asked. "Well, it started out as a heart attack call," Dixie informed her, "but when Johnny called the engine in as available after the ambulance left, they were immediately toned out again. Charlie and Greg came into Rampart about 11:30 and they told us. We decided to come anyway and hope the call goes quickly. It was an MVA on the 405. 99's paramedics responded with Engine 51." The pizzas arrived just then, four of them, and Joe Early paid the delivery man. Since he paid, he wouldn't feel bad about eating some before he to go back to the hospital---just in case Engine 51 didn't make it back before his allotted hour expired. The visitors sat down to wait as Chet Kelly sauntered in, a badly wrapped present in one hand and a case of soda in the other. "Out on a call?" he queried. Four heads nodded in unison. "Well, at least the pizza's here." He whistled and walked out of the dayroom. A perfect opportunity for The Phantom...Captain Pigeon was out. B-Shift's Captain Brady peeked in a few minutes after twelve, not terribly surprised to find the squad and engine gone. He was just sad that John was missing his own birthday party. He chatted for a while with Marilyn Dwyer and Penny Taylor, then left to join his wife for their perfect day at the beach, leaving B-Shift's gift on the table with the others. An hour later Dixie and Joe departed to return to Rampart. They were disappointed, but knew it was part of being a fireman to miss parties and meals. Chet left too, disappointed that he couldn't watch Johnny's next encounter with The Phantom's handiwork. Marilyn and Penny, determinedly cheerful, hung on until three, chatting and catching up on news, but Marilyn a daughter to pick up at her friend's house and Penny needed to run a few errands. They put the pizza and cake in the refrigerator and headed home. ******************* What is with the people in our area? Johnny wondered. First non-stop calls Monday, and then we get them again one right after the other today. Are they standing in line, or what? Twice that day they almost made it back to the station when they received another call; Gage was sweaty, tired and nearly starving to death. As Big Red finally backed into the apparatus bay, Johnny heaved a sigh of relief. They'd been gone pretty much all day. Breakfast was a long-ago memory and lunch got skipped. It was now four-thirty p.m. When Johnny opened his locker he was immediately drenched by a water bomb, à la Phantom. A second later a flash went off. "Kelly, your timing is off," Johnny muttered, "I haven't gone through the wash cycle yet and you've already put me through the rinse." "Konnitsky, if you don't put that damned camera away, I'm gonna break it," Johnny said a little louder. Every time he turned around today, it seemed, Konnitsky was taking his picture. ******************* J.R. Gage sat atop the hose tower staring at the night sky, one knee clasped against his chest, one leg dangling over the edge of the platform. He was no closer to finding the answer to his dilemma---Jennifer's birthday present. A couple of phone calls though, did relieve his mind about Velda Martin. She was released shortly after he left on Monday morning and taken to a different retirement home a few miles away. Additional questions revealed that her grandson was notified of the fire. True to his word, Kit Crawford called the USC center and gave them the information about Velda's whereabouts. They promised to help out. But J.R. intended to do what he could as well. He said he would visit her again, and he fully intended to keep his promise. I wonder how dad's birthday went. Our ride this morning was really special. His eyes were brighter than these stars when he saw that saddle. He lifted it off Dancer when we got back like it was made of glass instead of leather. I don't think he wanted to leave it. We'll ride again tomorrow morning when time is not a problem. Saturday we'll be on shift again, but Sunday...Sunday afternoon Jennifer will come over for her usual weekend ride. Last Saturday she rode with us all afternoon and Dad didn't question when I volunteered to take care of the horses. Johnny went into the house, unaware of his son's intentions, J.R. remembered. Jen stayed behind to 'help' and the two of them finally found a few minutes alone together. They'd made short work of grooming and feeding the horses, quickly releasing them into the corral. She followed him into the tack room where he put the saddles on their sawhorses, then turned to his 'dream girl'. Jennifer stood in a beam of sunlight that filtered in from a small window high in the wall. Her face seemed to glow and her lips parted in an unconscious invitation that proved irresistible. They stood in the tack room locked in each other's arms while J.R.'s lips explored every inch of Jennifer's face, from the golden freckles that dotted her delicate nose to the graceful line of her jaw. Finally settling on her soft mouth, he kissed her deeply and thoroughly until they both gasped for breath. The interlude lasted only a brief fifteen minutes, but discovery would mean disaster and J.R. managed to pull away from the encounter, restoring them both to a semblance of normalcy before they left the barn. Johnny didn't seem to notice that they were gone longer than usual. Sunday, they would do it again---he'd make certain of it. Jennifer DeSoto occupied his thoughts more and more each day. The desire to be with her become an aching need. "Hey, J.R.," Farms' voice called up from the parking lot below, "it's almost time for lights out. You comin' down or do you plan to bunk up there tonight?" "Be there in a minute, Farms. J.R. returned his thoughts to the here and now...and his current problem. Maybe if he got a woman's point of view... Tomorrow, he decided, he would drop by the hospital and pay a visit to Miss McCall...Dixie, he reminded himself. ******************* Gage's birthday was filled nonstop with calls through the evening hours and into the night. His crew stopped at a fast food restaurant after one fire for a quick supper. Before they could finish they were toned out yet again...and again until, all thoughts of the captain's birthday forgotten, Johnny's Crew was glad to collapse on their bunks. Breakfast for 51's C-Shift consisted of cold pizza and birthday cake...and nobody complained. Johnny opened his presents after A-Shift arrived and there was no danger of being toned out. Still bleary-eyed, he tried to be cheerful and focus on the pile of gifts awaiting him on the table, but to be truthful, he just wanted to get home and fall into bed. There was a respectable number of birthday gifts awaiting the captain. C-Shift pitched in to buy him a new fishing rod with a reel that claimed to be 'tangle-resistant'; J.R. must have clued them in that his old one was in a hopeless snarl. Dixie gave him a pair of forceps...J.R.'s influence again, he supposed; he'd dropped his in the lake on the last fishing trip. Dr. Brackett's gift was a selection of fishing lures. Dr. Early gave Johnny a gift certificate for a western wear store that he was known to frequent. Chet Kelly, Marco Lopez, Mike Stoker and Chief Stanley bought him a running suit that with the LACoFD logo and a T-shirt that said "Paramedics get the RUNS more often." The shift was a long one for J.R. as well, the time passing slowly as he tossed and turned all night. His usual dreams returned: he and Jennifer were walking along the beach, holding hands and kissing as the surf swirled around their bare feet and the wind caressed their sun warmed faces. He was holding Jennifer in his arms on Hawk Ridge and watching the sunset with her as birds of prey circled over the valley below. He and Jennifer rode their horses across the meadow, her hair streaming behind her in the sunlight. She was laughing at some witty remark he'd made. He and Jennifer were dancing together in a softly lit room---in his dreams he knew how to dance---moving more and more slowly to the romantic melody until they stopped altogether. She wore something white and sparkly, with a full skirt that made a swishing sound. He and Jennifer, lay down together in the soft summer grass of a meadow somewhere, holding each other...that dream was one better not remembered. He sat up in bed, gritting his teeth and trying to banish the dangerous images from his mind. Therein he thought lies madness. J.R. finally gave up on sleeping altogether and went to the kitchen for a glass of milk. An all-night channel on TV provided mindless entertainment until the morning tones went off. By the time his shift mates wandered into the kitchen, J.R. fixed sausages, biscuits and gravy, and laid out fresh fruit on the table for breakfast. J.R.'s insomnia has its benefits, Farms commented. Johnny was asleep by the time J.R. walked out the front door to start on his errands. The younger Gage knew he wouldn't sleep until he'd resolved the issue of Jen's present. At least part of it he figured out. Looking appreciatively at the sun falling on the open meadow and the horses grazing peacefully in the corral, he took a deep breath and climbed into the Rover. There were three stops on his agenda and he wouldn't come back until the mission was accomplished. ******************* A customer already, Bobbie thought as she unlocked the front door of the Carson City Florist Shop. She looked up at the tall young man and gave him her best smile, ushering him into the store. This kind of customer I don't mind at all. Tall and slim with coal-black hair that curled in cute little wisps on the back of his neck, soft brown eyes and a grin to die for. About nineteen or twenty, she guessed, and adorable. Refrigerated cases lined one wall with cut flowers and prepared arrangements, some already tagged for delivery. J.R. mentally checked his wallet and searched the displays. In a back corner he found what he was looking for. Removing a small container of fresh cut violets he carried them to the counter. The clerk, a slender teenage girl with red hair and more freckles than Dave Konnitsky, was watching him intently. "May I help you?" she asked. J.R. placed the violets on the counter. "I'd like these delivered tomorrow," he told her. "And can you make them up into some kind of bouquet or something?" "Sure. Here, fill out this card, and I'll need a delivery address and a phone number in case we have a problem finding the place." She wondered if it would do any good to offer him her phone number and address. "Can they be delivered tomorrow morning?" Gage filled out the delivery slip and wrote a brief message on the small card. It needed to be anonymous and innocuous-sounding so no one would suspect the identity of the giver. "Tomorrow morning? Sure." She said, punctuating the response with a pop of her bubble gum and a slow wink. J.R. wondered if he'd missed something. She winked again and smiled. Oh, he thought in wonder, she's flirting. Blushing uncomfortably, he asked, "How much does this come to?" The girl named a price and he winced inwardly, but paid without protest. This would seriously cut down on the available funds for a nice gift. He would be pretty well cleaned out until payday. I'm glad there's already gas in the Rover, he thought. As Gage walked out the door, the girl watched until he disappeared down the street and then looked at the delivery slip. Hmm, pooh! No return address. But the flowers are going to... "Jen DeSoto! Omigosh! That must have been her J.R.! Omigosh! Man, she's lucky! He's so...cute!" The girl wrote up the order and then picked up the phone on the counter. "Tams?...It's Bobbie. I know it's only 9:15, but you'll never guess who was just here! ...in the flower shop, silly..." ******************* "Morning Miss...er Dixie," J.R. greeted the ER Head Nurse as he approached the base station desk. It appeared to be a slow day for once, the waiting room was almost empty and Drs. Early and Morton stood outside Treatment One engaged in conversation. "Morning, J.R., what brings you to this neck of the woods?" Dixie put down the clipboard with the nurses' work schedule, half in regret and half in relief. "Do you have a minute to talk? I sure could use some advice." She looked up in surprise. "Sounds serious. C'mon, I'll buy you a coffee and you can tell me what's on your mind." Dixie slipped out from behind the desk, and linked her arm through J.R.'s. If Johnny is like a little brother, that must make J.R. my nephew, she mused. "I have to buy a birthday present," he began, "but it can't be just any old present. This one has to be special...it's for a very special person." He took a drink of the coffee and made a face at the strong bitter taste. This stuff will keep the hospital staff awake for days, he thought. "Hmm, is this 'special person' of the female persuasion?" When J.R. nodded, she continued. "Is it someone I know, or can you tell me?" He hesitated, unsure of the wisdom of revealing his dilemma...and his feelings...to someone he didn't know well. "You know, I'm pretty good at keeping secrets if that's what you're worried about." Dixie a fair idea who the birthday girl was; she'd been invited to the party too. Unfortunately, she was on shift and couldn't make it, as was Joe Early. "It's Jen DeSoto," J.R. said finally. "Miss...Dixie, I'm going nuts. I don't have a clue what to get for her. What do girls like to get for their birthdays?" "Well, most girls like jewelry. Jen has pierced ears, maybe some pretty earrings." At his doubtful look she asked, "Not special enough? How special does it have to be?" "I...I...I don't...It has to be real special. It has to show her how much..." He broke off miserably. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea. "J.R., does she feel the same way about you?" The young man panicked. "Am I that transparent?" "Sweetie, it's written all over your face. What do Roy and Joanne think about it?" "They don't know," he admitted. "At least I hope they don't. And I wanna keep it that way. They told Jen I was too old for her and we can't go out together. That's why it's so hard to figure out what to get her. It has to be something that shows her how much I...how I feel...you know." "Something that tells her that you love her?" J.R. nodded, his face hot. "But it has to be something the DeSotos won't object to, something that won't be too obvious." Dixie was in a quandary. She wasn't aware that Roy and Joanne already disapproved of J.R. If she advised him about a present that did what he wanted, she might be hurting Roy and Joanne. On the other hand, she did promise to help J.R. That hopeful look in those brown eyes was getting to her, just like his daddy's always could. "Well, nothing expensive; that would be in bad taste...and it would come right back to you with Roy and Joanne's compliments, if you know what I mean." J.R. nodded, he knew exactly what she meant. "I guess the best advice is something sentimental, something that will either be a constant reminder of you, or will remind her of something special you two have done together." He's beet red again. Just what special things have those two done together? I'd give my best earrings to know that. "Think about the most special gift you ever received from someone you loved, J.R. Often times it isn't something expensive or fancy, just something from the heart, something that's part of the giver; that's what makes it really special." J.R. nodded, thinking of the blanket Jennifer gave him at his 'baby shower'. It probably wasn't real costly, but just wrapping himself in it and holding it close made it easy to imagine having Jennifer hold him and kiss his cheek. Darn! there he went blushing again. Would he ever outgrow the tendency to betray his embarrassment like that? "That helps, Dixie, thanks. I have a better idea what to look for now." "You're welcome, J.R. But you're running low on time, aren't you? Tomorrow's her birthday." He nodded, a frown creasing his brow. "I'd better get going, huh?" J.R. started to walk away, then snapped his fingers and came back. "I almost forgot, do you happen to know where they took Mrs. Velda Martin when she was released? I promised her I would visit, but I don't know the name of the place." "Let me see if it's at the admissions desk," Dixie told him. This kind of help she didn't have to feel guilty about. "Here it is, the Fisher-Lawrence Retirement Village, here's the address." Dixie wrote down the address and handed it to the young man, glad to see he his father's 'thoughtful genes'. It was the kind of thing Johnny would do, although most people didn't know that. In a much better mood J.R. headed for the exit. He didn't have a real answer yet to his problem, but he was getting closer. ******************* J.R. knocked on the door of Velda Martin's small apartment and rocked on his toes awaiting an answer. The door was opened by a tall young man about his own age with dark hair and eyes. "Is this Mrs. Martin's apartment?" "Yes, it is," he said in surprise, expecting this guy to be looking for somebody else. "Grandma, you have a visitor." The young man motioned J.R. into the small but comfortable two-room apartment. Velda Martin sat in a rocking chair, her face all smiles as she welcomed her second visitor of the day. "J.R., how lovely to see you again." "How are you doing, Mrs. Martin?" "Oh, I'm doing just fine. I want you to meet my grandson, Peter Martin. Peter, this is J.R. Gage. He's one of the firemen that helped me the night of the fire. J.R.'s father carried me out of the building and J.R. gave me oxygen to help me breathe. He was so kind and brought me an African violet the next day when he came to the hospital to make sure I was okay." "How are you doing, J.R.? Thanks for taking care of my grandmother." He held out his hand to the young fireman, but the gratitude didn't reach his eyes. "Nice to meet ya," J.R. said, trying not to show his antipathy. This was the guy that Mrs. Martin put so much stock in. The grandson that hadn't been to see her in a long time. Was this what it took to bring him for a visit? Near-tragedy? "Grandma, I have to go. I'm due back at work in a few minutes." Peter kissed his grandmother perfunctorily on the forehead and headed toward the door, seeming almost anxious to escape. "All right, Peter, run along then." Velda said sadly. The question Will you be back? was in her eyes. "Nice to meet you, J.R.," the young man said, one hand on the doorknob as he belatedly remembered his manners. He was surprised when J.R. caught him by the arm and followed him into the hall. "Hey, man, she's really missed seeing you, you know? She needs you to visit more often." He released the man and watched in frustration as Peter Martin lowered his eyes; he'd like to pop the guy one. "Why are you butting into my business? What is it to you whether or not I visit my grandmother? Don't you have something better to do?" Peter didn't enjoy the guilty feelings J.R.'s words caused. "Hey! Family is important, man! I'd give anything to have a grandmother who cares about me. One of mine died before I was born and the other one hates my guts. Don't waste this chance; spend as much time with her as you can. She has lots of love to give you, and she's so proud of you; you can see it in her eyes. I don't think there's anybody that doesn't need all the love they can get. Do you?" J.R., unused to coming out with the kind of rant his father could deliver almost without thought, waited anxiously for Peter's response. Peter glared at the other young man, doubt and hostility radiating like a tangible thing. He resented J.R.'s interference, regardless of how right he was...or maybe because of it. It was nobody else's business how much attention he paid to his grandmother. "Hey, I'm not the enemy!" J.R. hissed. "Your grandmother is a nice lady. She talks like you're all she's got left. She deserves some of your time---she loves you, Peter. You're important to her. Don't turn your back on her. Please!" Unwilling to cause a scene, and already late for work, Velda's grandson just nodded reluctantly and walked toward the elevators as J.R. sighed, hoping he'd gotten through to him. "J.R., please come in and sit down." Velda Martin's voice held a note of anxiety. He knew she was probably curious about the conversation in the hall, but she didn't ask. Maybe she guessed the topic and was afraid he would make matters worse. Maybe she was right...maybe he had. Gage hesitated then put on a half-hearted smile and returned to where Velda was seated by the window. "I'm glad you're doing all right, Mrs. Martin. I was worried." He looked at his shoes, wondering how long he could stay. There was still the issue of Jen's present. "Oh," the woman said, smiling, "you don't need to worry about me, I'm tough as old nails; I'll get by. But you don't look very happy today. Is something wrong?" Settling back on the sofa in the tiny living room J.R. crossed his arms and bit his lip, trying to decide whether to burden Mrs. Martin with his problem. After a few moments of deliberation, he shrugged his shoulders and decided it couldn't hurt. "I have to buy a birthday gift for a very special person and I'm totally lost. I've known about it for a long time, but I don't have a clue what to get her, and her birthday is tomorrow." "I see. Why is it such a serious problem?" Velda leaned forward, eager to be of use to the young man who took such an interest in her welfare. "Well...it's kind of a secret," he began. "Jennifer, my girlfriend, at least I want her to be my girlfriend, is only gonna be seventeen. Her parents think, among other things, I'm too old for her and won't let us go out. I want to get her something to show her how special she is to me, but I'm afraid I'll get her in trouble. Her parents don't know we...have feelings for each other, and if they find out..." He let the sentence trail off, the implication obvious. "My dear, you do have a problem. Just how serious are these 'feelings' you have for a sixteen-year-old girl? And may I ask, how old are you?" Velda was uneasy. Her best advice should probably be to get the girl an impersonal gift and respect her parents' wishes where he was concerned. But she was a romantic at heart, and the situation brought back memories of her own youth. "I love her, Mrs. Martin. She's...wonderful. She makes me so happy when I'm with her and just thinking about her...well, I wish we could be together all the time. I don't know what to do. If I can't see her anymore, I feel like I'll just curl up and die inside, you know?" Now that he'd put it into words, J.R. felt a little less confused himself. "I see. Does she feel the same way toward you?" "Yes, ma'am," J.R. answered without hesitation, remembering the way she made him promise to try and see her whenever he could, and the way she kissed him back with all her heart. "Yes, ma'am, she does." Mrs. Martin tilted her head back and closed her eyes, lost in thought. Suddenly she sat forward, her eyes twinkling. "Do you have time to listen to an old woman tell you a story? It might help a little bit." "I'm all ears, Mrs. Martin." As Velda Martin told her story, J.R. listened in rapt attention. "When I was a young girl I fell in love with a man who was older than I. He was the most handsome man in the world, I thought then. Every time we were together, it felt just perfect, and yet, my father wanted me to marry a young lawyer in his firm. He wanted to keep the business in the family---Father owned a pretty successful law firm, and I was his only child. He no son to inherit his practice, and so he pinned all his hopes on me marrying this young lawyer." "What did you do? What was wrong with the man you loved?" J.R. leaned forward to catch every syllable. "Well, first off, Delbert, the man I loved, worked as a clerk at the general store...not at all a suitable match for a successful lawyer's daughter. We only saw each other when I went to the store with my friends. He worked behind the counter and managed to slip away for a few minutes every now and then to meet me outside, behind the store. We promised to be faithful to one another and he wanted to give me a token of his affection to seal the promise." "What did he give you?" J.R. asked, breathlessly waiting for the answer. "Well, his mother was sympathetic to our love and wanted me as her daughter-in-law. Once, when I met her on the street, I admired a brooch she wore pinned to her blouse. It was, she told me, a family heirloom, one passed down to her by her mother, and to her mother from her grandmother." Two days later, I found a small package wrapped in brown paper tucked in with the carton of groceries delivered to our house. When I unwrapped it..." "It was the brooch!" J.R. interrupted excitedly. "Delbert written inside the paper, 'I will always love you; I promise. Your Delbert." "What happened to the brooch? Did you lose it in the fire?" J.R. sure hoped not, that would be devastating. "No, actually, Peter has it. It was passed down to him from his mother, who received it from his father as a promise gift. I hope some day Peter will carry on the tradition and give it to some girl." Velda was smiling sweetly at J.R. She could see the wheels turning in the young man's head. "You know, Mrs. Martin, I think my mom would have been sympathetic to me and Jen if she were alive. She fell in love with my dad when she was sixteen. That's probably why Jen's parents are so afraid of me...they don't want history to repeat itself. My mom and dad were only seventeen when I was born." "What does your father think of this?" "He doesn't know," J.R. admitted. "At least I don't think he does. What happened with the young lawyer? Who did you end up marrying?" "It turned out the lawyer other ideas anyway. A big law firm in Chicago gave him a better offer and he moved away. After a couple years, my father was more willing to listen to my wishes and allowed Delbert to court me. Of course, it helped that Delbert saved up until he bought half interest in the store." J.R. chuckled. "I'll bet it did. Well, I have to get going now, but I want to thank you, Mrs. Martin, you've been more help than you'll ever know." "You're welcome, dear. Come again any time. Come for supper next time, and bring your girl, if you can." "I don't think that will be possible," J.R. shook his head reluctantly, "but I'll sure be back. Thank you again, so much." As he walked across the parking lot, a spring in his step, J.R. began to whistle. His problem was solved. As he mentally reviewed the contents of the small sandalwood box in his dresser drawer he knew exactly what he would give to Jennifer. END OF PART III part IV