Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 The day after our gumbo and bluegrass blowout, we woke up to another one of
those nasty winter days, an occluded front keeping the skies leaden and
dripping.  I didn't feel like cooking breakfast and cold cereal just
wouldn't do on a day like this.  I kissed the nose that was peeking out
just above the blankets.

   "I'm going back to bed, wife.  Call me when you have breakfast ready."

   The blanket came down far enough for her to stick her tongue out. 
"Pancakes and hot coffee sounds awfully good, husband.  And you wouldn't
have to worry about wakin' up tomorrow morning with an icepick in your
earhole."

   With the appearance of her red lips, I kissed her through her giggles.
"That's another thing to love about you.  You know how to compromise!" We
got dressed as the thermostat forced the heat from the fifty-five degree "I
love to snuggle with you" to the sixty-five degree comfort zone.

   It was hovering around forty, the wind raw and damp and gusty as we
hustled into the pickup and headed off to breakfast.  By this time, not
only did the restaurant staff know us, but we were starting to be familiar
with some of the Sunday morning crowd.  I wrote that up to the striking
little redhead I was with.

   There were many narratives floating around about Cindy: Mizz Helen's
foster daughter.  Married at fourteen.  The high school thing.  Little Miss
Cindy and her shotgun.  But the Sunday morning crowd was mainly a church
crowd, so those who took time to say something, well, they said something
nice.  I did notice, as did Cindy, that there were a few people who seemed
to look askance at our situation.

   One of those WASN'T the older guy in a neatly pressed deputy sheriff
uniform who was there with his wife.  They stopped by to say 'hi'.  "You're
the little girl that Deputy Stevens told us about, ain't you?" he asked.

   "Yessir," Cindy said.

   "Me an' Myra just wanted to say 'hi' to you, young lady.  Didn't mean to
interrupt your breakfast."

   "Oh, that's okay," I said as Cindy smiled.  "Thank you for taking care
of us.  Deputy Stevens seems like a good guy."

   "Oh, he is," the old guy said.  "But he still talks about Miss Cindy
here.  You're her husband?"

   "Yessir.  Long story."

   "We've heard bits and pieces.  He smiled.  "Stranger things have
happened.  Myra was fifteen when she trapped me."

   Myra punched her husband playfully.  "And he was eighteen.  And goin' in
the army.  And forty years later ...  Old goat!"

   "Ya'll got time, sit down and drink coffee with us," Cindy said.

   "Oh, no, dear," Myra said.  "We have to get to church, but maybe some
other time, okay?"

   "We'd love that.  We're here a lot of Sunday mornings," I added.  I
stood and shook their hands as they left.

   I took a sip of coffee, smiling at Cindy.  "I'm married to a famous
woman."

   "It was nice of them to stop by," she said.  "But you're what makes me
famous.  If it weren't for YOU, I'd be just another screwed-up schoolgirl."
She paused.  "Well, Mizz Helen might've rescued me, but NOT nearly like you
did.  An' you KNOW I love Mizz Helen.  But I seriously doubt that Mizz
Helen would be teaching me to fly."

   "Maybe not, cutie," I said, "but you might've found an equally
interesting path with her.  Of course," I mused, "My life would be much
poorer."

   "Mine, too, Dan." She tossed her head.  I don't know if she did that
because she was conscious of how I adored her face, framed by that aged
copper hair, but every time it did, a part of me melted.  "Finish your
coffee so we can go home." And a smile that had just a hint of sexuality.

   I drained the mug and we stood, paid the ticket, and we were out the
door into the nasty drizzle.

   "We got beans, baby," she said.  "It's a 'soup' kind of day."

   "Yeah," I said.  "Too nasty to go out and exercise."

   Giggle.  "I know some pretty good indoor exercises..."

   I glanced away from the road to see the delight in those green eyes. 
"You make a rainy day perfect, little angel," I said.  "Perfect for makin'
soup and makin' love..."

   What a way to spend a nasty Sunday: make happy, giggling love, watch an
old movie, stir the soup, eat, take a nap to the occasional sounds of
wind-driven rain striking the walls and windows.  Make love again.  Go find
another movie.  Reheat the soup for dinner.  Play cards with the TV on in
the background, shower, go to sleep with the most perfect partner
imaginable.

   Monday morning's weather wasn't any more pleasant than Sunday's.  If
anything, it was worse, although the front was slowly pushing through,
promising cold and clear in the near future.  We did breakfast at the
restaurant, I dropped Cindy back at the trailer to wait for the school bus
and I went to work.

   The project was past the '90% of the work takes 10% of the time' stage
and I was tied up in taking all the big pieces and little pieces and
correcting the "I didn't know THAT would happen" issues.  It was old
stories with me, for the most part, communication and control issues,
changing modes from those used to facilitate the initial application of
high voltage power to those that would carry and control loads when the
facility came on line for real.

   I'd just had ANOTHER revelatory discussion with the "systems integrator"
about how his plans for tying the power system communications needed to,
'you know, actually consider that my communications protocols were ONLY
compatible with the rest of the system if we put a little magic box between
the two systems, and that MY equipment specifications showed that the magic
box and the programming thereof was on HIS scope of work'.

   "There it is, right there!  In black and white."

   "Okay!  You got me.  Now what?" He said, disgusted.

   "We get the interface, connect it up and program it.  Piece of cake.  My
system's got holes in it waiting for us to plug into.  I'll help you
through this." I was only cheating a little bit.  The problem was one I'd
faced before, and I had some files that would get up and talking, then it
was a matter of him deciding what data he needed.  "Order the box," I said.

   That's why some days I felt tired when I got home.  Actually, I stopped
by the park office to find Cindy perched on a chair, laptop out, tapping
away, stopping to chat with Helen and Charlie, then back on the keyboard.

   "Wow!" I commented.  "She's busy!  Homework?"

   "Kinda-sorta," she said, smiling.  "Doin' a little project for my
English teacher.  A short story."

   "Oh," I said.  "Is this one going to show up at another college English
department?"

   Charlie chuckled.  "She told us about that.  I find it amusing."

   "Amusing is a good word," I laughed.  "Astounding works, too."

   Cindy looked up, grinning.  "Ya'll are talking about me like I'm not
here."

   "Oh, we know you're here, sweetie," Helen said.  "We're just talkin'
about some of the happy things about you."

   "I know," Cindy answered.  "This is fun stuff.  I get to make things
up."

   "DO I get to read it before you turn it in?" I asked.

   "I hope you do," she said.  "You're a better spell-checker than
Microsoft." Giggle.

   Charlie said, "Yes, son, when I was a young lawyer, the very best you
could hope for was a secretary that could take your henscratch and make you
sound intelligent."

   "Those are getting hard to find these days," I said.

   Another giggle from the little redhead.  "Ummmmm!  I'm gonna tell Mizz
Sara you said that..."

   General laughter.

   "Yeah, there ARE exceptions.  But Sara seldom does correspondence for
anybody, what with email and word processors, and you'd be scared to read
the writings of some of my co-workers, knowing that people who can't spell
or write any better than that are building industrial facilities." I
laughed.

   Cindy was shutting down her laptop.  "Salads for dinner?"

   "Sounds good to me." I looked at Helen and Charlie.  "You want to join
us?"

   "Thanks for asking, Dan," Helen said, "But we'll have dinner ready when
we get home." Judge Charlie's housekeeper took care of her eighty-odd year
old employer and his sixty year old wife.  "We'll have to plan something,
though."

   "Yessir," Charlie said.  "We'll do that."

   Cindy and I went to our trailer.  She dropped her backpack and we rested
for a while sitting on the sofa with me listening to her school happenings
and then telling her my hurdles.  Dinner almost went away when she swiveled
from beside me to be seated on my lap with her arms around my neck and her
lips fastened to mine.

   "Don't get ideas now, boy," she giggled.  "I have my heart set on
something stuffed in a big Portobello mushroom."

   "That makes me soooo sad, little redheaded girl, that I come in second
to a mushroom..."

   "And the Sommers sisters..." she tittered.  The Sommers sisters, the
owners and operators of our 'salad place', were kind and friendly to us,
the strange pair that came in so often.

   "Okay, cutie.  I'll take the back seat to the Sommers sisters." It was
five o'clock.  When we walked out to the truck, the wind was brisk, biting,
but there were streaks of orange tingeing the western sky as the clouds
broke up.

   Despite the truck's heater rapidly taking the chill out of the cab,
Cindy was belted right up against me.  As soon as I got the truck into
'forward', I took that arm and draped it around her, gaining me a purr from
my little kitten.  She reached forward, punched up some music, then took
that hand to pull my arm tightly around her.

   "Life is good, Dan," she said.

   "Indeed it is, princess," I said.

   The next day Cindy came home with an application to take the ACT in
February.  That was easy enough, except for the part where we decide which
colleges to send official copies to.  I flipped the phone open.

   "Hi, Dan," Jim answered.  "I expected you to call."

   "Then you know what I'm going to ask."

   "Why don't you two come over for dinner tomorrow.  I think Ann's doin'
Purina Baptist Chow."

   "Huh?" I blurted.

   "Casserole, man!  Casserole!"

   "Yeah, okay!  Sorry!  I'm punchy from the project today."

   He laughed.  "So you're tellin' me that a trailer full of engineers is
worse than five hundred and sixty-three middle schoolers."

   "Your middle schoolers don't yet have the opportunity to screw up a two
hundred and fifty million dollar construction project," I said.

   "Yeah, but they would if they had a chance."

   Cindy said, "Hi, Mister Jim.  We'll be there!" loud enough that Jim
heard it.

   Jim laughed.  "It's fortunate that we marry women who have better sense
than we do, ain't it?"

   "Yeah.  And tell Ann that it won't match hers, but I'll bring a pie for
dessert."

   "Dan an' Cindy're bringing pie," Jim said to Ann.

   "That's good," Ann said.  "Just make sure he brings Cindy!"

   Jim said, "You heard all that?"

   "Yeah," I said.  "I'm now defined by the personality of my wife."

   Jim laughed.  "As are we all, Dan.  We married above our station, Dan."

   "Yeah.  We got lucky, didn't we?  Okay, We'll see you tomorrow."

   "Tell Cindy that I'm gonna want to talk to her tomorrow in school."

   Cindy's ear was pressed against mine.  "'Kay, Mister Jim," she chirped.

   We hung up.  She wrapped her arms around me and whispered, "So what were
you tellin' me about simple foods?  A pot of rice, some vegetables? 
Indian?"

   "I think we can fake some of that.  I worked with a couple of Indian
engineers on the last project.  We talked."

   "I can see that happening, love," she said.  "That's something I learned
about you that I find very attractive."

   "What?" I asked.

   "Well, I can't remember you not talking to somebody.  When we go out,
you find friends easily.  And you know, look at all the stuff we've shared.
You love to do things.  And you love letting ME do things.  You want me to
be ME!"

   "And at the end of every day, I want you to think that 'me' is a part of
'us'."

   Her face was inches from mine, her green eyes connected to my blue. 
"Dan," she said earnestly, "I stopped being 'me' and became part of 'us'
when you admitted you loved me."

   Some basmati rice, a little bit of exotically spiced chicken and a
handful of vegetables made dinner for us.  She hovered as close to me as
she could in the tiny kitchenette.  I talked about the ideas that my old
buddies Sanji and Asif had shared in our conversations about mommas and
grandmothers cooking for families and I added little pinches of spices to
try and replicate the tastes of an Indian restaurant that they swore was
almost home cooking for them.

   When the meal was over, I looked at her.  "Well?" I asked.

   "Interesting," she answered.

   "Worth further research?"

   "Yep!  Maybe they have one of those restaurants in Mobile, for the
weekend..." she smiled.  I remembered that only a few months back she'd had
her first try at Chinese food.

   "So you're looking for an adventure this weekend?" I looked at her
across the little table.

   "Maybe a little one.  But what I REALLY want..."

   "What do you REALLY want, kitten?" I smiled.

   "What I REALLY and is for us to find another of those fantastic evenings
with an orchestra and something REALLY special.  Haydn.  Bach.  You know
... Make a big weekend of it."

   "I think that would be perfect, little one.  We need to do a search. 
Anything within six or eight hundred miles.  We can fly that far with no
problems."

   " ...  can fly that far.  And if we have to do instruments, YOU can do
it." She sounded confident.

   "Yeah, just remember, sweetie, that ol' plane isn't a REAL instrument
platform.  No punching fronts and getting crazy.  No ice."

   She leaned over the table, her chin propped in one hand.  Her eyebrows
raised above those green eyes and there was a twinkle.  "So we need a good
day to leave, and if we get stranded a day because of weather..."

   I chuckled.  "So you're, like, planning for our plans to crash..."

   "Nah..." she smiled.  "I'm just sayin' that if they were to come apart,
it wouldn't be soooo bad..."

   "Stranded on a desert island with you for the rest of my life wouldn't
be soooo bad..." I laughed.

   "What?!?!  No gumbo?  No whatever that Indian thing we just had?  Nope.
Desert islands are a definite no.  but Memphis or Nashville or Atlanta or
Houston..." her smile melted me faster today than it did the first day I
laughed with her at the pool at the end of last summer.

   The north wind gave the trailer a little shudder.  Little Miss Always
Thinking said, "IF we crack a couple of windows for a minute, we can
cross-ventilate and clear the air out of here."

   "Good idea," I said.  She opened a window on the south side and I opened
one at the opposite end of the north side, and the wind almost whistled
through the little trailer.  The temperature dropped like a rock.  We gave
it five minutes then closed the windows.  The heating system kicked into
high to get us back up to sixty-eight.  We cleaned up after dinner, I
played on my computer while she worked on her story, then we showered and
went to bed.

   I hit the shower after her.  She finished drying her hair, and as I came
out I saw her flipping her nightshirt onto the little bedside table.  "Just
bring your clothes, guy.  You won't need 'em for a little while." And a
smile.

   Why should I resist?  She expected me and I relished her.  And we loved
each other.  Softly at first, then she started getting insistent and I
reacted and somebody had to sleep in the wet spot because when we stopped,
there was only a small gap between the little death of orgasm and the sweet
oblivion of satiated sleep.

   The alarm brought us back to the everyday universe: Breakfast, school,
work.

   My buddy's magic box came in, courtesy of a phone call to another
project that had one on the shelf.  We plugged in a couple of pairs of
fiber optic cables, I plugged in my laptop, did a few programming things,
and then the configuration file slid right in.  That hurdle was in our
dust. The next one involved some calls to our engineering firm and a few
comments verged on strident as I pointed out a couple of mistakes that
could have been critical.  They promised corrected files in two days.

   I went home.  My cellphone rang a few minutes after four.  Cindy.

   "Hi, cutie," I said.

   "Hey, my guy," she chirped.  "Just wanted to make sure you were on the
way home.  We have dinner at the Hardesty's."

   "I remember, baby," I said.  "What did Jim want to talk with you about
at school?"

   "College choices," she said.  "We'll talk about it tonight when we get
there.  I'm trying to reach a decision.  I need you to help.  And Mister
Jim and MIzz Ann."

   "Okay, baby.  I'll be there in a few minutes."

   "I'll meet you at the trailer, love," she said.

   I hung up, reflecting on the absurdity of a fourteen year old having to
"reach a decision" about college.  I never had to reach a decision.  I
graduated high school in the middle of the thundering herd, grade-wise,
stood out ONLY because I had ACT and SAT scores that reflected my abilities
rather better than my actual grades did.  And there was a university in
town that I could get into with the savings Mom and Dad had for my college,
plus a part-time job, to pay my way.  And then ROTC helped.

   And Cindy was fourteen and if I was a candle in the dark, she was a
bonfire, and two universities had room for her under 'gifted' programs
already, and for all I knew, there were others.  My dilemma was how to
support her, to hold the ladder as she stepped to the stars.

   I was happy as an engineer, really.  I'd considered myself a success,
especially in the last few years, but I wondered.  Cindy said she wanted to
be like me.  And I wondered if she was setting her sights too low.

   I waved at Helen as I passed the office, heading to the trailer.  Cindy
heard my foot hit the step, because when I opened the door and stepped in
out of the brisk air, it was right into her arms.  I worked a hand free to
close the door behind us and kissed her back.

   "You've been thinking, haven't you," she said.  "Hard stuff."

   I nodded.  "About us?"

   "Yes, Cindy love.  About what happens when you graduate."

   "We have an adventure, baby.  You get to be the husband of a college
student.  I get to go to college.  And become an engineer.  Like you." She
kissed me.  "So stop worrying.  Okay?  You and me.  Forever."

   "I worry.  I married a rockstar.  I don't want to limit..."

   "Shush, hon!" she said, touching a fingertip to my lips.  "Since we met,
there's not a day that I haven't seen you, and we're married."

   I nodded.  "But..."

   "But nothin'" and there was that 'I know what I'm saying' wrinkle above
her nose.  "I know you get wrapped up in all these things, like I'm just
fourteen, and all that, but baby, YOU of all people should know ME and you
should KNOW that fourteen doesn't mean a thing when it comes to us."

   She gave me a push backward onto the sofa and straddled me, her forehead
touching mine.  "Just remember, Dan.  We stood together in front of our
friends and promised.  Forever."

   "Okay, punkin," I said.  "You win.  Me."

   Giggle.  While she was straddling me, she wiggled, knowing full well
what her wiggle did.  I, well part of me, responded in the most intense
manner and she planted her lips on mine, her tongue emphasizing our
connection and she ground her crotch against the hardness in my pants.

   "I adore you, Cindy," I said.

   "Then you need to understand that I adore you just as much.  You rescued
me..."

   I sighed.  "And you rescued me..."

   She said, "You didn't need rescuin', Dan."

   "Oh, but I did, little one.  I had no idea how dead I was until I met
you."

   "Good!" she said.  One more grind, to which I moaned.  "We'll go have
dinner and talk with our friends, and then we'll come home and see if we
can make each other pass out." Her face lost the serious look.  It was all
'happy young girl', and I wondered what I'd ever done to deserve her.  I
got one more kiss before she climbed off my lap and donned her jacket.

   Her hi-tech florescent colors were a stark contrast to my own jacket, a
nut brown canvas thing common on jobsites, and when she pulled a knit wool
cap down to the tops of her ears, forcing that red hair to flare at her
jawline, my heart stopped.  She saw me stare, and that meant that she
struck a little pose, one knee bent, smiling, the absurdly rare Alabama ski
bunny.  "Let's go, guy!" she said.  And we were off.

   Twenty minutes later, we were knocking on the door at the Hardesty
house. Teresa answered the door.  Jim was rounding the corner, laughing. 
"Careful, sweetie," he said to Teresa.  "You never know WHO you're gonna
let in."

   "Daaa-adddd," she groaned.

   Ann's blonde head peered around the corner.  "We'll eat in ten minutes.
Make yourselves at home, 'kay?"

   "Hi, Ann," I said.

   "Hi, Mizz Ann," Cindy said.  "Can I help?" Cindy was carrying the pie
we'd picked up on the way over.  Apple.

   Ann headed back into the kitchen.  "You and Teresa can set the table. 
Billy!  Glasses with ice, son!"

   "Yes, ma'am!" Billy answered.

   "Come sit," Jim said.  "I had a talk with Cindy today, but I'd rather
discuss it with both of you.  You've got a single-minded young lady there,
Dan."

   "She's something," I said.  "You know, I've hung around women who
weren't that 'together' that were twice her age."

   Jim looked at me.  "Sorta what I keep coming up with.  You know, until
this year, she was just in the background, loping along, hidden in the
herd."

   "She said she did C's without having to try, just wanted to keep her mom
off her case."

   "Yeah," Jim said.  "I get that.  But I'd have never sat her down and
talked, you know, REALLY talked with her.  We talked for about an hour
today, Dan.  You know, every case I put in front of her, she went through
this 'what if' analysis, and a lot of it was how it would affect HER, but
she always worked in how it would affect both of you.  It was like watching
a good chess player thinking so many moves ahead."

   I smiled.  Just a little.

   "We sort of talked like, you know, friends, because we ARE friends, our
two families.  And she said she stood by her original plan.  Wants to be an
engineer.  Because her best friend in the whole world, her life mate, is an
engineer." Jim smiled smugly.

   "Yeah, you smile.  But how do you live up to that?" I said.

   "I know.  Ann pulled that same stunt on me.  She could've done well as a
professional violinist, but she said she fell in love with this goofy-assed
Marine." He sat back.  "So every day I thank God that I have her and she
has me and that's the way it's supposed to be.  I mean, she could be
playing in a symphony somewhere, and I could be wrapping up a career in the
Marines, but you know, it might sound sappy, but we were made for THIS.  So
when Cindy says ...  fourteen going on forty, that she belongs with Dan,
then I guess I'm inclined to believe her."

   Ann's head popped around the corner.  "If ya'll are finished draggin'
your knuckles in the dirt, dinner's ready."

   Jim snorted.  "See!  Pure love and respect!"

   We sat together at the table, bowed our heads, and yes, I felt blessed.

   Ann said, "This is my award-winning casserole.  Got a ribbon last year
at the church for best main dish in an oblong pyrex container." She did
that twinkly eye thing pretty well, too, along with a smirk that broadened
into a grin.

   Small talk covered the meal.  Teresa sat next to Cindy on the side
opposite me and they were talking about teachers and classes for a bit
until Cindy's ears perked up at the mention of a concert schedule.

   "Mobile?" Cindy said.  "we ought to go to that one together..."

   Teresa said, "Mom?!?!  Bach?  Beethoven?  Not my thing..." I saw Billy
nodding agreement.

   Jim said, "Well you two could stand spending the weekend with your
cousins, huh?"

   "Oh, yeah," Billy said.  "He's got X-box, too!" It was Teresa's turn to
agree.

   Ann said, "That's weekend after this one.  We could drive up on
Saturday."

   "Yesss!" Cindy said.  "We do that!  And have a nice dinner, then a
concert, then late night snack." She smiled.  I know why she smiled.  "And
then we get up and have breakfast and drive home."

   "Or we could leave EARLY Saturday and do the mall!" Ann said.

   "That makes it an expensive weekend," Jim snickered.

   "I need a few things, Jim," she smiled sweetly.

   "And I can..." Cindy started.

   "Help," I finished.

   Teresa's face was showing mixed feelings now.  "Mooo-ooommm!  The mall?"

   "Okay," I said, reaching for a compromise.  "How about you ladies, Ann,
Cindy, Teresa, go to the mall this weekend and do a round trip, and next
weekend, we'll just do the concert."

   Cindy turned to Ann.  That meant Ann had a thirteen year old AND a
fourteen year old looking at her.  "And you guys can have a testosterone
day.  Go slay a beast or something."

   I looked at Dan.  "Rifle range?  Billy?" Billy's grin told me we had him
sold.

   "Pie, anybody?" Ann asked.  We had pie, and then we jumped into clearing
the dining room table.  Five minutes after the meal was over, Cindy and I
were side by side on the love seat in the Hardesty living room.

   Ann started off on the main subject.  "Cindy, Jim says ya'll talked
about colleges today..."

   Cindy smiled.  "Yes, ma'am.  We did.  I need to make some decisions, but
I wanted to talk with you an' Mister Jim and Dan all together."

   Jim said, "We talked about her going to one of the high-powered big name
universities like MIT or Stanford."

   "We did, baby," she said.  "You know, the idea about those big names is
exciting an' all, but you know what I talked about with you from the
beginning..."

   I did indeed know.  But it was in the beginning when I knew her to be
just bright and precocious.  In the months we'd been together, I learned
that she was more than just bright.  While back then I was flattered that
she wanted to attempt the climb to 'be like me', now I saw her as leaping
over me to heights I could not imagine.

   "Dan, Mister Jim and I talked.  I want to be an engineer.  That's what I
want right now.  When he talks about it, maybe that will be step one, but
that's going to be MY step."

   I looked at those green eyes.  She read my expression because that
little 'I know what I'm saying' wrinkle showed up above her nose again.  I
could read her face, too, you know.

   "I fell in love with you.  I want to be LIKE you.  Engineer.  Now we
have to see if it's University of Alabama or Auburn."

   "That's what I got out of her today, Dan," Jim said.

   Ann wrapped her fingers in his.  "Sounds like she's chosen a path, Dan."

   "Yes, ma'am, Mizz Ann," Cindy said.  Her hand held mine.  "Y'know,
before Dan came into my life, I didn't have much at all to look forward to.
Now ...  I can't imagine all the possibilities like Mister Jim talked with
me about today.  But I know that my future wouldn't be as good without..."
she kissed me lightly on the cheek, "this guy.  Not even a choice, really."

   I patted her hand.  "Are you sure, sweetie?"

   "What'd I say?  We got MARRIED.  We'll have THIS adventure, then we'll
see about the next one.  We got each other.  And we've got the BEST
friends! We'll do fine!"

   Ann interjected, "We're just trying to give you all the options Cindy.
The final decision is between you and Dan."

   "I know," Cindy answered.  "I appreciate that.  And that's what we're
doing.  And ya'll are helping." She turned to me.  "Mister Jim's setting us
up a visit to the people at Auburn and University of Alabama soon.  I hope
you can get loose for them."

   "I'll try," I said.  "Work's, well, it gets crazy when we start things
up.  But I'll try.  Jim, I trust your judgment on these things."

   "You shouldn't, Dan.  You're the engineer here.  And Cindy's the
proto-engineer.  What's that they call her out there?"

   "The Engineer's Apprentice..." and a satisfied smile from the cute
little redhead.