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Whitfield was sitting up in bed watching Judge Judy.
    "Professor! Man, I'm sorry about this mess."
    "Rob, don't be silly. I'm just glad you're okay. You want to notify anyone? Your parents?"
    "God no. They said if I'm still stable in an hour they're going to release me. You don't have to hang around."
    Beadles looked at the arm. The sting was covered with a white bandage and the swelling had gone down. He felt massive relief. That will teach him to violate the rules.
    Yeah right , he thought. As if I ever learned to tow the line .
    "Give me a call in a few days. We'll go riding."
    "You bet, Professor. And thanks again for letting me see the exhibit and getting me in here so fast."
    Beadles waved. "All in a day's work."
    He took the bus back to campus, walked up the hill and unlocked his Trek 10-speed which was chained to a rack outside the Emory Building. Riding through the shaded streets Beadles reflected on how lucky he'd been. He'd always had good luck.
    Plus he made his own luck, often recklessly. He'd first spotted Betty in a supermarket aisle. He'd followed her through the parking lot with a grocery cart which he "accidentally" let slide into her car.
    That was six years ago in Elgin. They dated. They clicked. She was the most exciting thing in his life. Beadles had never had trouble attracting women. It was getting rid of them that was the hard part. He didn't see himself getting married before age forty, but after a year of dating Betty said, "Either we get married or I'm out of here."
    Beadles did that quick calculation so many make. Can I do better? Like staring at a Ferrari with the keys in your hand. Yeah it goes like hot stink and it's beautiful, but think of the upkeep! Mechanics alone are 250 an hour. Premium gas. Thousand dollar tires. Limited utility.
    He was an up and coming academic star with pop success. She was an ambitious, gorgeous, intelligent and charming loan officer with a future. What could go wrong? It wasn't until a week later he realized she smoked.
    She'd tried to keep it hidden. For awhile. He could taste it on her lips but never said a word. God knew he had his own vices.
    Their anniversary was coming up. They planned to drop Lars with Betty's parents in Rockford and spend a week at Sandal's in Jamaica.
    Six years on and he still couldn't get enough of Betty's world-class body and bedroom flair. It blinded him to a certain selfishness. He pulled into the driveway of the Craftsman-style bungalow he'd purchased three years ago when he'd joined the faculty and there she was, hoisting Lars from his car seat in her Ford Edge, tailgate open revealing two sacks of groceries.
    He swung his right leg over while still in motion, came to a halt next to Betty and kissed her while she held the babe. He tasted cigarettes. She'd velcroed an ashtray to the console in the Edge.
    "Guess what?" Betty said. "Got a baby sitter. I went to that university site listing undergrads and found someone who was your student last year."
    "Great? Who is it?"
    "Stephanie Byrd."
    Beadles shook his head. "Doesn't ring a bell."
    "She has excellent credentials. Liggett endorsed her."
    "Oh well if the great Liggett himself endorsed her…"
    "Grab the groceries, wouldya?"
    ***

CHAPTER SEVEN
    "Souvenir"
    Betty baked lasagna, Lars went down for the count. They watched Ghost on cable with Patrick Swayze and Demi Moore, and made passionate love on the king-sized bed in the master bedroom. Betty went out on the porch and smoked a cigarette. Lars slept in a crib in the dressing room which dog-legged off the bedroom. Betty returned and crawled into bed.
    She slept.
    She ground her teeth. A low wave irritation accompanied by atonal humming. It did no good to wake her. Beadles had begged her to visit a dentist, a psychiatrist, someone to stop the grinding. Betty flew into a fury the second time he did this. It was better to just keep his mouth shut and put up with it even if it did cause him many a sleepless night. A big part of marriage