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"Well neither do you!...on this!" I giggle at her. All I get back fromher is a stare, that kills that joy. Then she starts pacing again,she's nervous for some reason?After she looks away from me, I laugh a little "But we will plan ashopping trip for some other time? But anyway, the main reason why Icould not port ...Donna? was...you know?" I grin at her."What do you mean...you know?" she asks me more than confused."You know?" I look at her again, she just shrugs and turns away fromme. So I decide to 'play' with her "So? when are you and Donnaexpecting that kid of yours?"She just stops and stands there.....with her back toward meAs I say that, Sara......she turns slowly to look at me, with a faceof pure rage! Her eyes turn into black pools, deep dark pools of pureterror, that seem to suck into her head. They draw in all the lightand life around them.I start to slide back on the bed, away from her. 'what did I say?' isin my mindA mass of black tentacles, with a fang filled mouth at each. Shortly thereafter he sent an e-mail letter to her ordinary, "real life" Internet server address, not her supposedly anonymous address, informing her that he would visit her on one of three dates he specified. She could choose any one of the three. He stated that he would cover all required expenses, and gave her sundry other instructions.Having, it seemed to her, no other course open, she chose a date--Saturday, July 11, the day before her birthday--and booked a two-bedroom suite in a famous resort hotel located on the southern Maine coast. She used the credit card he had sent. Then she informed him of her arrangements.She had chosen the date for a reason. Having no idea how she would react to this man she knew only from his letters, she had put a limit on the duration of their tryst. She had to attend her own birthday party at her in-laws' cottage in the Maine woods, thirty-five minutes from the hotel, on the afternoon of Sunday, the twelfth. He would have to accept that. So would.
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