"Gee, Mom. You're the most wonderful woman in the whole wide world!"

Lily awoke the next morning in high spirits. After dinner she had made two phone calls to New York City. The first one, to an old friend from school who was a private detective, elicited the promise of a discreet, careful investigation that guaranteed results – one way, or another. Then Lily had called Albert, found him home, and went into a long, ingratiating, subservient dissertation before he could say much of anything; she had told him about a non-existent phone call that had come from someplace in Florida, that very afternoon, and how afraid she was for her son's safety, et cetera. Surprised to hear from her, then suspicious, then haughty and mean as only Albert could get, he had apparently believed her when she assured him in the most fearful voice she could muster that she hadn't seen Eddie, would have called Albert immediately if she had. She thought for a moment that she had laid it on too thick, but it had turned out to be just right. Albert had warned her about the consequences of trying to help a runaway, and told her that he would have the police look for Eddie in Florida and the south. He hadn't bothered to offer to let her know if the boy was found, nor, Lily thought with momentary bitterness, had he even seemed particularly concerned that his son might be in trouble. The heartless bastard deserved anything he got, and then some. She hoped the detective would catch him in some really good compromising poses and get some really incriminating pictures.

Now she smiled lovingly at Eddie as he sat across from her at breakfast, savoring the flavor and aroma of the bacon, eggs, hotcakes, fresh coffee and orange juice Lily had prepared. She forked the last bite of egg into her mouth, put the utensil down, and sighed, contentedly; she had to marvel at what a wonderfully handsome youth her son had become, a slimly muscular boy with all the assets of the handsome man he would soon fully be.