“Put the money away, Joel,” Nora said. She looked at me tenderly. “He’s a Southerner. They’re gentlemen. I think, next year, I’ll have all Southerners working for me.”

Joel Lourie laughed easily. He slipped his wallet back into his pocket. “I’m sorry,” he said to me. “I didn’t mean any offense.”

“There wasn’t any,” I replied. I again glanced at Amy. “See you in the morning.”

“Good night, Bobo,” Amy said.

I heard Nora Dowling say as I walked away, “Such a nice boy. So nice.”

Carter was waiting for me outside The Cave. He was smoking a cigarette and watching the smoke curl in blue ribbons against the haze of the sky. “Come on,” he ordered. “Let’s go for a little walk.”

I followed him across the street and beside the annex to the swimming pool. We sat in lounge chairs. Carter was in a languid mood and he did not speak until he had finished his cigarette and crushed it against the ground.

“Hell of a night, wasn’t it?” he said, leaning his weight against the back of the chair and gazing into the sky.

“Yeah, it was nice,” I agreed.

He rolled his head to look at me. “So, tell me: how did you do?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, what happened? Jesus, I gave you enough time, didn’t I? I almost froze my balls off.”

“Nothing happened,” I said. “What happened to you?”

“Got my hand on it,” Carter chortled. “God, Bobo, it was warm.” He paused and whistled softly and twirled his lucky hand in the air above his head. “And wet. I think I’m in love, Bobo.”

“I’m glad,” I told him. “Look, it’s late.”

An evil grin crawled into his face. “Yeah, I forgot. You’ve still got a letter to write, haven’t you?”

“What letter?” I demanded.

“To Carolyn.”

“Come on, Carter, Don’t bring that up.”

“A joke, Bobo. Just a joke,” Carter said. “Don’t be so damned tense. Tell me what happened with the most beautiful woman you’ll ever see.”

“We walked, we talked,” I said.

“That’s it?”

“I hugged her.”

“Did you kiss her?”

“Yes,” I said after a pause.

“You son of a bitch. I hope your tongue falls out,” Carter sighed. “Was it good?”

I smiled. “It was nice.”

“Nice?”

“Nice,” I repeated.

“That’s it? Nice? You kiss that woman and you call it nice? Bullshit,” he snorted. “Next thing you know, I’ll be renting a tux and standing up with you before your preacher brother and some pissed-off rabbi, and you’ll be seven months away from being a daddy.”

“Don’t start it, Carter,” I said.