“Ultrasound analysis reveals a weakness in the left Achilles tendon, which is caused by tension in the right hip flexor.”

“Suggestion?”

“Twofold. First, postpone your plyometric speed drills while we run institute rehabilitative lateral gastrocnemius exercise.”

“Fine. And the second?”

Beverly paused, almost shyly. “Well, I’d recommend some form of massage to help your hips relax, honey. Maybe that big burly hunk of a man has some suggestions.”

Sean guffawed, rolled her and scooped her into his arms. “Cheating!” he said. “That’s what she always prescribes.”

“We think alike is all. Right, Bev?”

“Humph. A Southern lady doesn’t watch such goings-on.”

“In that case, switch off.”

“Have fun, children.”

Sean and Jillian laughed together, and then quieted. How could they make this seem casual? Everything they said or did had a ring of finality to it.

“I don’t want to look at the clock,” she whispered.

He smiled. “What do you want?”

“Just hold me. ‘Gird up thy loins now like a man…’”

“Huh?”

“Job thirty-eight, verse three.”

“Pretty randy for a Bible verse.” He brushed her lips with his, then nuzzled the nape of her neck until her breathing grew deep and ragged. “And what did it say after that?”

Her voice was thick, and swallowing was an effort. “Something about ‘laying the foundations of the Earth.’

“Ambitious.”

She pressed herself against him. “Just hold me until they call. I don’t want to think. I’ll go crazy if I think.”

He was good that way. They were good for each other, that way. For Jillian, he was the only one who had ever been able to stop the madness, stop the daydreaming, the endless carousel of thought.

Then why couldn’t I belong to him?

Because I don ‘t belong to myself.

For Sean, the future meant a position on the board of Penn Tech, tenure, publication, precious Comnet access time.