"Dreams are fine as long as they're responsible, but acting stupid and doing the smart thing are miles apart!" Cynthia barked, her face getting redder by the minute.

"Ask any honest woman who she'd rather sleep with," slurred Ginger, "a jock or a PhD." Paul laughed heartily, spilling his drink while Ginger's husband Joseph glowered further at his wife, a look of pure hatred on his puffy face.

Time to scat, thought Dean. Trouble's a-brewing. He set down his glass, and taking Cynthia's hand, retreated from the parlor to the kitchen, without even bothering to make an excuse. Cynthia wasn't finished, but now her sole audience was David Dean.

While Cynthia was proud of her son Randy's athletic achievements, she always saw those abilities as a means to an end-not an end in itself. Dean was sure that, deep down, she thought whacking at a ball or chasing one someone else clobbered was an extended children's game and certainly not a worthwhile profession. She was pleased as punch that baseball had given her son four otherwise unaffordable years at prestigious and expensive Bucknell University but now the silly game was going to cause him to chuck the final year. That, and the little matter of a cookie in the oven of love, which seemed to be taking a back seat in her ire. It was easier to blame baseball.

In spite of being a mediocre athlete at best, Dean had thrived on sports. It wasn't his fault he wasn't worth a damn at any of them. What little talent he'd possessed, he disguised in hard work and determination until he'd risen to his zenith-mediocrity. Therefore, he dreaded Cynthia seeking his complicity in opposing Randy's march to glory.

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"You are okay with this, aren't you?" Cynthia asked.

"Sure," he lied. "Education comes first."

She peered at him closely. "Men!" she said, in disgust. He never had been able to lie worth a damn.

"I'm just being honest. Didn't you ever have a dream?"

"I'm living my dream," she said, making him feel even more like shit.

He plunked down on a chair, reached up and took her hand. "Look," he said. "Randy is a sharp kid-man-with a bushel full of talent and the brains to go with it. You raised him and you can be proud as punch of everything he's accomplished, but you've got to trust him, too. Billy Langstrom and his girlfriend-that's different. They're still kids. They need all the help and guidance they can get. But Randy and Jen are adults. Trust them to come to the right decisions-on their own. Without you and Rose Calvia making it harder." She began to protest but he stopped her. "He's an adult, or nearly so. He deserves your trust of his judgment." He added, "just like we're trusting that Martha is telling the truth." But before Cynthia could reply, the phone interrupted. Cynthia answered. It was one of several long distance conversations that afternoon, and evening. Dean only caught snatches, but enough to know Cynthia was speaking to Rose, son Randy, and Jen.




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