The day loomed ahead of him. Several weeks ago he’d made a date to spend the day with a luscious beauty who said she would drive up from Pittsburgh, spend the night, and return early Sunday morning. He’d canceled the date when the request came in to meet with the famous Lola Jor Dan. He wondered if it was too late to call the long-legged Mariah. Yeah, it was too late.

It wasn’t that he had nothing to do. He had a brief to write, his gutters needed to be cleaned out, and he had plans to blacktop his driveway. Then there was the gym and his Saturday afternoon visit to see his mother.

Nothing held his interest, though.

He wondered what would happen if he called the Jor Dan estate and asked to speak to Cady. Maybe he could invite her to lunch or dinner. Old friends, that kind of thing. He knew in his gut Amy and Andy hadn’t called her. If they had, they would have let him know immediately.

Pete stared out the window. It was raining, and he couldn’t see across the yard because of the low-lying fog. That took care of his driveway and the gutters. If the fog continued, there would be no point to visiting his mother because she would refuse to leave her room, saying opposing alien forces created the fog in order to vaporize anyone who left the security of their room. Hopefully the weather would be better, and he would be able to go tomorrow and take her a new supply of pellets for the air gun that she was never without. He wished there was something he could do for his mother, but he’d exhausted every medical option open to him. The last doctor had patted him on his shoulder, and said, “Son, there are some things medical science can’t cure or help. Your mother is happy in her own little world. Accept it.”

That left the brief, the gym, and the call to Cady. He had two weeks to work on the brief. That narrowed his options to the gym and Cady. “I don’t think I’m ready for Cady Jordan today,” he muttered.

“I’m going to the gym, Annie.” He shouted to be heard over the roar of the vacuum cleaner. “Don’t worry about lunch. I’ll pick something up or eat with some of the guys. Take messages.”

The first person he saw when he entered the gym was Larry Denville, sweating, huffing, and puffing as he chugged along at 3.5 on the treadmill. He waved. Larry took his deathlike grip off the bar and waved. Pete winced when he saw the chunky young man almost fall off. There was out of shape and then there was out of shape. He felt proud of himself, though, for getting Larry to give up his jelly donuts and all the other fast-food junk he consumed on a daily basis and join the gym. The only problem was, the reporter wanted instant gratification.