I'm terribly excited. I'm terrified.She opens the door. My wits return and I stumble outside of theneighborhood's view into the house."I don't owe you...anything, Katie," she warns. "I can leave for thecottage without helping you at all."I look from her to the driveway. As usual, our paperboy didn't do hisjob. The thick Saturday newspaper is by the curb, about 70 ft away fromthe front door. I look to her hoping she relents. She only points. Idon't trust her at all but I want this diaper off. Off. “Is it a nice, pleasant surprise?” she asked tentatively.I thought about it. It was certainly a surprise, though in hindsight it probably should have been obvious from how she behaved that day and her letters to me. I had read them as if she were a friend and I was sure that if I went back and read them again, I’d see things I’d completely missed before. In one sense, it was indeed nice and pleasant. In another, it was somewhat frightening. It was frightening because I realized that this young. More

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