“Thank you, Ann Landers.”

“I’ve watched it happen. It happened to my mother.”

“Yes, you’ve told me.” Her father was an inveterate lecher, her mother now an alcoholic. “But I don’t plan to go down the same path. Now can we drop the subject? No one has said I’m going to marry the guy.”

“Famous last words.”

Gloria’s appraisal of Frank did not soften. Whenever he came into the apartment she managed to be civil, too civil; then she would retreat to the bedroom and stay there until he left. Even on the nights I had him in for dinner, she refused to join us and often went out to eat; sometimes she would call from a public phone to make sure he was gone before she got back. Aside from Gloria’s behavior, I was angered by Frank’s complacent acceptance of it.

“She loves you very much,” he said. “I never had a friend like that. You’re very lucky. I think it’s better if I don’t come down here anymore.”

“I’m not going to let her rule my life.”

“Irene, it’s her apartment, it’s her name on the lease. We can see each other at my place.”

“We can at least come here when she’s out.”

“Honey, what’s the point? She’d find out. Doing it behind her back would insult her.”

“Frank, why are you giving in to her like this?”

“Because she’s upset and hurt and I’m not.”

So far as he was concerned, it was that simple. Before he got carried away with this consideration for her, I was itching to tell him some of the things she had said behind his back. But I didn’t. No matter how magnanimous he might be, there was still room for hurt. Besides, I didn’t have to wait long for him to admit she was way out of bounds. He admitted it the day my parents paid a surprise visit.

I had spent Saturday night at Frank’s. We were just finishing a late breakfast when the bell rang. Fortunately, I had brought my own robe and had it on when Frank opened the door to my mother and father. My first emotion was murderous: their sheepish smiles told me immediately that Gloria had engineered this intrusion.

“We went to your apartment first,” was my mother’s weak excuse, “but we didn’t know how long it would take you to come down.”

“Frank has a telephone,” I said. “And so do I. Why didn’t you let me know you were coming?”

They had visited me only three times during my college career, and always reluctantly. They preferred my coming home to visit them.

“Well, your father and I thought we’d start doing a few things on the spur of the moment.”

“Did you bring Neil and Barry?”

“No. Neil had a date to go bowling with his girlfriend. Barry went camping this weekend.”

What she said was plausible but not very probable. Neil loved the campus and would go off on his own to explore whenever he came. I couldn’t imagine him passing up this opportunity, especially if he had a girlfriend to show it to. And Barry, who ranked me even higher in his affections than he did his catcher’s mitt and hockey stick, was not likely to let a camping trip interfere with visiting me. Unless he hadn’t been told.