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I wanted to hold off on posting this chapter, but the story refused to wait.

*****

Chris and I were talking about baseball when the nurse came in. "Visiting hours are over, sir," she told me.

"See ya Monday," Chris said.

"Count on it," I told him as the nurse gave him a small plastic cup with a clear liquid in it.

I left Chris' room and headed to the parking lot. I was within sight of the exit when the cover of Time caught my eye. Apparently, some pacifist groups were protesting the fact that several universities' science departments were receiving large grants from a defense contractor. I knew that all too well, since Chris and I were both under consideration for a chair named for the CEO's mother. I opened the magazine to see whether the coverage was slanted when a pair of hands covered my eyes. I heard a song coming from behind me: "I used to cry myself to sleep at night ..."

"It's either Whitney Houston or Jessica Dunn," I said. The hands came off my eyes, went to my stomach and squeezed me. She kissed me behind ...

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