Tim sat down on the edge of the bed and picked up one of the framed photographs from the marble-topped night table. She sat next to him, and he put his arm around her as he held the picture on her knees. It was of three teenagers, two boys and a girl, grinning at the camera in a moment of simple joy. The boy on the left was Tim. His blond curls were longer and wilder, and his smile was different than it was now. More open. Less jaded by time and experience.

"That's you," CeeCee said.

"Right." Tim pointed to the boy on the right. "And that's Marty."

The grinning young Marty bore the clean-cut, steel-jawed good looks of a soldier. "Wow, I wouldn't have recognized him."

"He'd just turned eighteen here," Tim said. "Shipped out the next week. Andie-" Tim pointed to the girl standing between them "-and I were fifteen."

"She's your...this is your sister?" CeeCee asked.

For the first time since she'd asked him about SCAPE, Tim smiled. "My twin," he said, his fingertips lightly touching the gla.s.s over Andie's picture. His voice sounded swollen with love for his sister. "And that's where SCAPE comes in."

"I don't get it," she said.

Tim let out a long sigh. "A couple of years ago, Andie was arrested for murder."

CeeCee caught her breath. "Murder?" she asked. "Did she do it?"

Tim didn't answer the question. "When she finally got her day in court last summer, the jury came to the conclusion that she did."

CeeCee suddenly understood Tim's concerns about prison reform. "Why did they think she did it?"

"Because they didn't really know her. Andie couldn't hurt anyone. And the thing is... Marty screwed things up for her. I don't blame him for what he did, but he still feels like c.r.a.p about it."

"What did he do?"

Tim stared at the picture. "See, what happened was, this photographer was supposed to come take pictures of our house to do a spread for Southern Living Cla.s.sics. Southern Living Cla.s.sics. You know, the magazine?" You know, the magazine?"

She nodded, although she didn't know the magazine at all.

"My parents were in Europe," Tim continued, "so the guy was just going to photograph the exterior and do the rest when they got back. Andie was home, but she was studying in her room. We were both finishing up our soph.o.m.ore year at Carolina. She'd-we'd-just turned nineteen. Anyhow, she said she didn't even know the guy was here taking pictures, and the next day, one of our neighbors saw him dead in the backyard. He'd been stabbed about a dozen times with a kitchen knife. The neighbor said she saw Andie outside talking to him the day before." Tim set the photograph back on the night table and stood up, running his fingers through his hair. "So, then things got all screwed up," he said.

CeeCee tried to mask her horror. A man had been murdered in the yard behind the house she was sitting in. Stabbed a dozen times. She shuddered at the thought.

"The cops interviewed Andie and Marty and me separately." Tim idly touched objects on the long dresser. Another photograph. A hand mirror. A silver cigarette lighter. "And we all said different things. I told the truth. I said I was on campus around the time they figured the guy was murdered, which I was, and that I'd met Marty for lunch. He'd just gotten back from Vietnam and was kind of a mess."

Tim opened one of the top dresser drawers and pulled out an unopened pack of Winstons. CeeCee sat quietly as he lit a cigarette and let out a stream of smoke. He held the pack toward her and she shook her head.

"Marty lied, though," Tim said. "He said he was home with Andie all afternoon, that she never went outside. He said it to protect her, of course." He laughed mirthlessly. "This is so screwed up," he said.

"And what did Andie say?" she asked.

"That she was home alone and never saw the guy. Her prints were on the knife, and she said that was because it was from our kitchen and she used it all the time. So, Marty got a slap on the wrist for lying and Andie got put in jail for a year and a half while she waited for a trial. My parents came home right away and got her a decent lawyer, but Andie's story was screwy and the jury knew it. The prosecution made the case that it was premeditated. That Andie killed him for his camera equipment, even though they could never prove anything was missing. The thing is, Andie never believed she'd be convicted, so she never told anyone what really happened. She lied during the trial and lied to her lawyer because-" he took a long drag on the cigarette and looked squarely at CeeCee "-because she really did did kill him, but thought things would go worse for her if she admitted it." kill him, but thought things would go worse for her if she admitted it."

"She did it?" The scene in the yard grew more vivid in her eyes. She saw the pretty blonde in the photograph plunging a knife into a stranger's heart. Twelve times.

"She told the truth after after she got convicted. It was...devastating. We were all in the courtroom when the verdict was announced. My mother started sobbing, and Andie stood up and shouted, 'I want to tell the truth! I want to tell the truth!' It was a little late for that." she got convicted. It was...devastating. We were all in the courtroom when the verdict was announced. My mother started sobbing, and Andie stood up and shouted, 'I want to tell the truth! I want to tell the truth!' It was a little late for that."

"What was was the truth?" the truth?"

"The guy raped raped her." Tim raised the cigarette to his lips, his hand trembling. "He got her to let him inside to shoot some of the interior and then he-" Tim stopped himself. "Let's just say he was a brutal son of a b.i.t.c.h. She went a little crazy after he left the house and she grabbed the knife and went out in the yard and let him have it. Got him back for what he did to her. I believed her. We all did. But her attorney didn't and it was just too little too late. If she perjured herself once, she'd do it again. That's what they figured." Tim leaned against the dresser, his arms folded across his chest, and looked directly at CeeCee. "She got the death penalty," he said. her." Tim raised the cigarette to his lips, his hand trembling. "He got her to let him inside to shoot some of the interior and then he-" Tim stopped himself. "Let's just say he was a brutal son of a b.i.t.c.h. She went a little crazy after he left the house and she grabbed the knife and went out in the yard and let him have it. Got him back for what he did to her. I believed her. We all did. But her attorney didn't and it was just too little too late. If she perjured herself once, she'd do it again. That's what they figured." Tim leaned against the dresser, his arms folded across his chest, and looked directly at CeeCee. "She got the death penalty," he said.

Everything fell into place. "Oh," she said.

"And our mother couldn't take it. Mom always had problems with depression and she felt guilty that she and my father traveled so much and she hadn't been there for Andie. Even though we were all old enough to take care of ourselves. So," Tim said, and raised his hands in a helpless gesture, "I came home a few days after the trial to find my mother dead of an overdose." He looked at the bed where CeeCee still sat, and she knew that's where he'd found his mother. She stood up.

"I'm so sorry," she said, overwhelmed. His family, apparently once prosperous and happy, had quickly turned to dust. A daughter sentenced to death. A brother gone crazy in Vietnam. A mother's suicide. She wrapped her arms around Tim, pressing her cheek to his bare chest. "It's all so horrible," she said.

He returned the embrace and she felt his chin rest on the top of her head. "You still want to be here with me?" he asked.

"More than ever," she said. She could comfort him. They could comfort each other. "Is Andie...is she still alive?" she asked.

"On death row," he said. "And I still haven't told you about SCAPE," he said.

She leaned back to look up at him. "What is it?"

He put out his cigarette and drew her back to the bed again. "We-Marty and I and some lawyers-have been trying to get her sentence reduced. SCAPE is an organization of people who are against the death penalty. It stands for Stop Capital Punishment Everywhere. But it's kind of an underground group."

"What does that mean?"

"Did you ever hear of the Weather Underground?"

CeeCee shrugged. The name was familiar, but she didn't know why.

"It was a group of people who believed things needed to be different and who gave up on conventional channels. So, in the case of SCAPE, we try to find ways to get rid of the death penalty. We protest and...that sort of thing."

"Have you tried writing to President Carter?" she asked.

"It's really not up to Carter," Tim said. "The only person who could stay her execution is Governor Russell. We've written to him and tried to get in to see him. He doesn't give a s.h.i.t. He's a hard-liner who's glad to see the death penalty back. He's an a.s.shole. I think he sees Andie as someone he can use as an example. 'See? Even women will pay if they disobey the laws of the land.'"

"There's got to be something something you can do," she said. you can do," she said.

He looked at her and for the first time since he'd started talking about Andie, there was a smile on his face. "I love your optimism," he said. "And I think I'm falling in love with you."

They were the words she was waiting for. "I know know I love you," she said. I love you," she said.

Tim wound a lock of her hair around his index finger. "I can honestly say I've never felt this way about a girl before," he said. "You're young, and I thought that might be a problem at first, but you have such a way about you. You're so positive and you make me feel more positive. Thank you."

She nodded.

"And please please keep this...this stuff about SCAPE between you and me." keep this...this stuff about SCAPE between you and me."

He looked worried and her heart filled with love for him. "I would do anything for you," she said, and she meant it.

Chapter Five.

Dear CeeCee,It's hard for me to give you more advice about boys and men without scaring you. How do I balance preparing you without frightening you? I guess I can only tell you about my own experiences.When I was fifteen, I was raped. (This was not your father, so don't worry about that!) I worked after school at this nursery (the plant kind) and he was a regular customer there, so when he offered me a ride home one evening, I took it. It was dark when we got to my house and I stupidly told him my parents weren't home. He walked me to the door and the next thing I knew I was on the porch, flat on my back, his hand over my mouth. I couldn't do a thing. He just stood up with a smile afterward and drove away. That was the angriest I've ever been in my life. If I'd had a gun, I would have killed him.I never told anyone about this except you, CeeCee, because I was so ashamed of how stupid I was.So I guess there are some good ones out there, but I never had the pleasure of meeting one of them. Just be careful and don't do anything as stupid and trusting as I did, okay?

Every moment she spent with Tim, her love for him deepened. In the coffee shop in the morning, she felt the sweet secret of their relationship in the air between them. Oh, Ronnie knew how much she loved him, but she didn't know-and she could never understand-the bond that was growing between them. Ronnie was still into playing games with guys. She told CeeCee to flirt with other customers in the coffee shop to make Tim jealous. She told her to fake o.r.g.a.s.ms in order to boost his ego. The o.r.g.a.s.m problem did did worry her, but for the most part, she laughed off her friend's advice. worry her, but for the most part, she laughed off her friend's advice.

She'd not been loved this way since she was twelve. Everything she did was appreciated, even applauded. They were lovers and best friends. He was helping her with her application for Carolina. The deadline was mid-January, but he said the sooner she applied, the better. She had to get her high-school transcripts and write an essay, among other things, and she felt him holding her hand every step of the way. She thought her acceptance would mean as much to him as it would to her.

She'd moved from organizing Tim's room and closet to straightening the rest of the house. The once-filthy kitchen was now spotless, every pot and pan in its place. She'd polished the living-room furniture with lemon oil and scrubbed mildew from the tile in the bathroom. Tim told her she didn't need to do any of it, but it gave her a sense of satisfaction. He did so much for her; she loved being able to give back, and she began to feel some ownership in the beautiful mansion.

Pictures of Andie were everywhere. She'd pick them up and study the girl's eager smile, thinking, You had no idea what fate had in store for you. You had no idea what fate had in store for you. She would imagine Andie being raped by the photographer, and even though she knew the rape had occurred inside the house, in her mind it took place at night on the front porch-a front porch that didn't even exist at the mansion. Tim told her childhood stories about his sister, how she brought home stray kittens and how, at age seven, she tried to sneak into his hospital room when he'd had his appendix out because no one would let her visit him. How she'd tried to climb into the coffin at their grandmother's funeral. The love CeeCee felt for Tim began to expand to encompa.s.s his sister. She would imagine Andie being raped by the photographer, and even though she knew the rape had occurred inside the house, in her mind it took place at night on the front porch-a front porch that didn't even exist at the mansion. Tim told her childhood stories about his sister, how she brought home stray kittens and how, at age seven, she tried to sneak into his hospital room when he'd had his appendix out because no one would let her visit him. How she'd tried to climb into the coffin at their grandmother's funeral. The love CeeCee felt for Tim began to expand to encompa.s.s his sister.

"Can I meet her?" she asked one night when he was telling her Andie stories in bed.

"I'll look into it," he said. "She's in Raleigh and they limit who can visit, but I think you should should meet her. Y'all would really love each other." meet her. Y'all would really love each other."

Funny how love could double and then triple. She even felt some of it toward Marty. Marty began to see her as friend rather than foe, and the night he said that her fried chicken was the best he'd ever tasted, she knew she was winning him over. That same night, he'd brought his guitar into the living room and played a lot of Creedence Clearwater Revival songs that he knew all the words to, while she and Tim stumbled through the lyrics. He'd had a guitar in 'Nam, Marty explained to her, and music got him through some rough times.

The day before Halloween, she bought three pumpkins and she, Tim and Marty sat in the kitchen, carving jack-o'-lanterns and nibbling roasted pumpkin seeds. At first she'd wondered if it had been a mistake to put a knife in Marty's hands, but he was careful with his carving, and his design turned out to be the most intricate, if also the most frightening, of the three.

Her mother had liked to dress up to open the door to trick-or-treaters, so CeeCee made a Jolly Green Giant costume out of green tights, a green turtle neck and an abundance of green felt. She had the feeling that Tim thought she was going a bit overboard, but he still told her she looked adorable in her outfit.

On Halloween night, she put on her costume, lit candles in the jack-o'-lanterns, and set them out on the front stoop. When the first trick-or-treater arrived, though, Marty panicked.

"Don't open the door!" He'd been sitting in the living room with Tim, but now he headed for the stairs.

"It's all right, Marty," Tim said. "It's just a kid looking for a handout."

"Don't open it!" Marty stood at the top of the stairs, and CeeCee, cradling a bowl of chocolate kisses, saw real terror in his eyes.

"It's okay, Marty," she said. "I won't open it."

Tim looked at her with grat.i.tude. "Sorry," he said.

She went outside and blew out the candles inside the jack-o'-lanterns, then Tim turned out the front lights. Standing in the middle of the foyer in her Jolly Green Giant outfit, she looked up at Marty, who was now sitting on the top step like a little kid, elbows on his knees and his chin resting on his hands.

"Get your guitar, Marty, and come downstairs," she said. "We've got some chocolate to eat."

Four weeks after their first date, Tim called her when he got out of his evening cla.s.s. It was nearly ten-thirty, and CeeCee and Ronnie were lying in their beds reading, but when he asked if he could come pick her up, that he had something important he wanted to ask her, she didn't hesitate.

"I'll wait for you out front." She hung up the phone and hopped off her bed. "He said he has something important to ask me," she said to Ronnie as she stripped off her pajamas.

"Oh my G.o.d!" Ronnie put down her magazine. "Do you think he's going to propose? Today is, like, your one-month anniversary and everything, right?"

That had been CeeCee's first thought as well, though she and Tim had never even mentioned marriage. The tone of his voice, though, told her that whatever he wanted to ask her was serious business.

"I don't know." She pulled a T-shirt over her head, not bothering with a bra. "I just can't see him asking me to marry him right now." Did she want him to? She wasn't sure.

"You're practically his wife already," Ronnie said. "You do his laundry, laundry, for Pete's sake. Maybe he figures he should make it legal." for Pete's sake. Maybe he figures he should make it legal."

CeeCee ran a brush through her hair, bending low to see her reflection in the mirror above the dresser. "It's probably nothing like that."

"I bet it is." Ronnie sat up on her bed, hugging her knees. "What will you say if he asks you?"

She gave her hair one final swipe with the brush as she thought about the question. "I'd say no," she said finally. "I mean, I know he's the right one, but I want to be out of college and supporting myself before I get married. I don't want to be dependent on him."

Ronnie held up the issue of Cosmopolitan Cosmopolitan she'd been reading. "You need to take a look at this article," she said. "He's she'd been reading. "You need to take a look at this article," she said. "He's rich. rich. Let him support you." Let him support you."

CeeCee opened the door, then turned back to her friend with a smile. "One day," she said. "But not today."

Chapter Six.

Today you rubbed my back after I got sick. It felt so good. It's like you're the mother now and I'm the child. You're a natural-born caretaker, CeeCee. How did I get so lucky to have you as a daughter?

She climbed into Tim's van and leaned over to kiss him, and she knew right away that he was nervous. His smile was brief and false and he didn't hold her gaze the way he usually did. Instead, he started driving.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"Nothing. I just don't want to talk in front of your house."

He probably thought Ronnie would be watching from the window.

"Should we go to your house?"

He shook his head and turned the corner into the parking lot of an old Baptist church. "Marty's there," he said, "and I want to talk to you alone."

Oh, G.o.d. He was was going to propose. going to propose.

He turned off the ignition. "It's getting kind of chilly out. Will you be okay if we just sit here for a while?"

"I'm fine," she said.

The parking-lot lights filled the car and he looked pale, almost sick, in their glow. "I've got something heavy to talk to you about," he said.

She couldn't stop her smile. "Okay." She would have to be very kind when she turned him down, very loving. She'd make sure he knew it was the timing that was wrong, not the proposal itself.

Tim rubbed his palms together as if trying to warm himself up.