Lorraine strolled through the block-long shopping district Larimar Square with Griffin and Ashe, clinging to Griffin’s arm. She knew people were glancing at her, people who’d seen her for years, people she recognized. But there was something different about her, and nobody had any doubts about what that was. She almost felt a whiff of jealousy as they glanced at her, knowing the mousy little librarian’s life was taking a different course, one any of them would envy.

But it was more than Griffin’s wealth, well-known to most of Denver’s citizens after his rescue of the library. He had a charisma, a personal power that his son shared, that Lorraine basked in, that she’d never known before and would never know again. She almost felt that she shared that strength, just a little bit.

But she shut out her worries, her flashes of a long, sad future. There were other things to worry about.

“I think we should stage a rally”—” Griffin said, “really bring some heat to the campaign. What do you think, son?” Ashe scratched his cheek, then nodded. Griffin turned to Lorraine. “What do you think?”

“What do I think? That was my idea originally, but Albert Jenkins shut me down.”

“Figures.” Griffen huffed.

“That’s why I wrote the letter.”

Griffin said, “Great minds think alike. Let’s do it.”

“What about my petition? I’ve gotten five hundred signatures so far.”

“And that’s a start. Now let’s finish it.”

“Gee, a rally.” Lorraine gave it some thought, but she couldn’t imagine a reason why not to do it. But that wasn’t the only question. “How?”

Griffin shrugged and pulled out his smartphone. “Just a few calls are all it’ll take. We’ll protest government cutbacks, get a few celebs to show up. I think David Crosby’s in town.” Ashe rolled his eyes and shook his head. Griffin said, “Fine, I’ll see if Springsteen’ll fly in. But I can’t keep calling in that favor. He’s not president yet.”

“Bruce Springsteen?”

Griffin shrugged. “I can’t promise. Y’know what we should do? Stage multiple rallies at libraries all over the nation, all on the same day. We’ll call it National Library Day or something, really guilt those rich sons of bitches into paying up.”

“They’ve got a whole week for that.”

“Then they’re dropping the ball,” Griffin said. “That’s not my style. We’ll make the rallies a yearly thing, make sure to keep those library doors open.”

“Really? That’s… Griffin, that’s amazing,” Lorraine said in admiration.

“Gotta give back sometime, am I right?”

“Yes, you are,” she said, “you’re as right a man as I’ve ever known.”

Griffin looked into Lorraine’s eyes, her own staring back at him. She could see her own reflection on those beautiful blue eyes, and she hoped in that moment that those twin images of herself, imprisoned in Griffin’s incredible gaze, would be the last thing she’d ever see in this world.

She had no way of knowing how likely and tragic and prophetic her fitful wish would be.

* * *

Lorraine sat on her bed plotting in her notebook, buzzing with excitement. These plans were really materializing. She called her best friend, Jeremy, to ask if he would help out with the cause. “Of course I’ll spread the word,” Jeremy said, his voice looping and excited on the other end of the phone. “It’s this weekend? That isn’t much time.”

“Yeah, I barely know where to begin.”

“Didn’t Mr. Monopoly just make a few magic phone calls?”

“He did, actually. I just feel like there’s more I can do to, y’know, contribute to the effort.”

“Contribute? Lo’, this whole thing started because of you. You are the effort.”

“No, Jeremy, I’m not, I’m just…I’m just lucky, I guess.”

“For the first time in a long time. So sit back and enjoy it! You’ve earned it, Lo’, you really have.”

“Well, I, y’know—”—”

“No, not just well I y’know. You deserve it, Lo’; you deserve to be happy.”

“I know I do, I know, but…sometimes it’s just hard to believe, especially with all this.”

Lorraine couldn’t be sure, but she imagined Jeremy shaking his head, rolling his big, brown eyes. “Say it, that’ll make it easier.” Lorraine didn’t answer, and Jeremy repeated, “C’mon, Lo’, say it.”

It was harder than Lorraine thought, harder than she would have imagined. “I-I deserve it.”

“You deserve what?”

“I deserve to be happy. There, I said it. I deserve to be happy, okay?”

“Okay,” Jeremy said. “The next step is for you to believe it.” After a long, uncomfortable silence, Jeremy asked, “What about Donal? Did you break it off with him yet?”

“Yeah, he, um, he wasn’t very happy. It was weird, because he’s such a nice guy, y’know? But he was a bit miffed, I guess you could say.”

“Hard to blame him, Lo’. What man wouldn’t be disappointed? Still, I’m sure it’s no big deal. What about those library goons? They must be out of their minds about it—the rally and all that.”

“I haven’t been back to the library. And they’re not goons, Jeremy. Albert and Carmen are good people, they’re social servants.”

“They’re banging,” he blurted out.

“Jeremy! What makes you say that?”

Jeremy sighed with an exaggerated flourish. “You remember that company party I came to last year? They were staring at each other, disappearing together. Those two are mashin’ uglies, I’m tellin’ ya.”

Lorraine gave it some thought. The notion did make some sense to her, but it raised as many questions as it answered. “I guess that’s why she was so unworried about the library closing. She did say something like Albert would take care of us; I guess she meant that he’d take care of her. And I guess it makes sense that she didn’t want me objecting, that she was sticking beside Albert Jenkins.”

“They’re knockin’ boots, playing hide-the-salami,” he went on.

“But wouldn’t it make her even more nervous that she’d lose her job and Albert? An end to the library could be the end of their affair, probably would be.”

“Doesn’t matter, your bosses are bangin’.”

“Jeremy, stop.”

“The big nasty—”

“I get it, Jeremy. Thanks for sharing.”

“Sorry, Lo’. We’re not all virgins.”

After a mischievous little pause, Lorraine heard herself say, “Neither am I…at least, not anymore.”

“Lo’! Oh my God, tell me everything…”…”

* * *

Griffin, Lorraine, and Ashe decided to pay her parents a visit in their home. For an instant she was shy and bashful about having Griffin to her parent’s house. She had never brought a guy home before to meet them, and she really wanted to keep things as casual and smooth as possible.

“Welcome to our humble abode!” Larry Devonshire beamed as he opened the door. Griffin smiled and Lorraine gave her dad a big hug. “Oh, hi there!” Sally said sweetly when she saw Ashe pop out behind his dad. “Nice to meet you both,” she said warmly.

They walked into the living room and sat down. “Are you sure a rally’s a good idea?” Sally Devonshire’s brows furrowed. “I mean, this is Denver, not Los Angeles. We don’t really do rallies, dear.”

Griffin said, “It’s a form of pubic protest; that’s a great American tradition, like the libraries themselves. I’m trying to teach my boy to buck the system, to call others to action.”

“Nice!” Larry brought two cold beers out from the kitchen, handing one to Griffin.

Lorraine turned to her mother. “Griffin thinks it’s a good way to bring attention to the cause, and I think he’s right. And if we’re not ready to stand up and fight to protect these social services, who will be? And how can we claim to deserve them?”

“Lorraine’s absolutely right,” Griffin said. “And it’s not just the libraries. They’ll be gutting social security soon enough—welfare. If the government won’t look out for its citizens, then its citizens have to look out for each other.”

“And that’s a lovely sentiment,” Sally said, sipping a greyhound, ice cubes clinking in her glass. “If you can afford it.”

“I’m not sure how we can afford anything else,” Griffin said. “I’m just glad Lorraine wrote that open letter. She’s got a lot of guts.”

“That’s my girl!” Larry said proudly.

Griffin and Ashe exchanged a knowing glance, and Sally said, “That’s all well and good, but there’s a lot to consider. You say you want to make this an annual event?”

“That’s right,” Lorraine said, “in every big city in the country.”

Griffin said, “I put calls in. Springsteen can’t make it out here, but he’s agreed to play at the New York rally. Ringo’s in Philly anyway, so that’s a done deal.”

“Ringo!” Larry’s voice was loud with enthusiasm.

Griffin offered a casual smile. “Yeah, you’ve heard of him?”

Larry wore a smile ear to ear and they fist-bumped, Lorraine and Ashe chuckling. But Sally was as unimpressed as ever, and that wriggled in the back of Lorraine’s mind.

Lorraine wondered, What’s her problem this time? She didn’t like that I was a shut-in, now she doesn’t like it that I’m getting out more?

It wasn’t easy to find a good time and place to pull Sally out to the backyard, away from the others. “Mother, what’s up? Griffin’s a great guy; his rally’s a great idea.”

“I don’t doubt that, dear, truly. He does seem like an impressive fellow, and his boy is just so dear.”

“He really is. So what’s with all the looks?”

Sally sighed, turning away. But she wouldn’t be rebuked, and leaned over to reconnect with her mother’s line of sight. “Mom, what?”

“People are talking, Lorraine, that’s all.”

“Well, I know that, Mom. My letter was a big hit, Griffin and I were on the news and everything. That’s kind of the whole point of the campaign—”

“The campaign…to ruin your reputation.”

That send a cold wave through Lorraine’s body and her mind. “How’s that now?”

“I didn’t want to say anything but…somebody mentioned it at the grocery store. Everybody knows about you and Griffin, that you’re…involved.”

Lorraine thought about it, but found only greater confusion. “Okay, first of all, that’s private and personal; it’s not anybody’s business.”

“And I agree, dear, of course. But you said it yourself, your campaign is a public affair…and so are you and Griffin.”

“And secondly, just because we’re working together to save the library doesn’t mean I’m…we’re automatically involved like that.”

Sally shrugged. “But you are.”

“Mom!”

“You can lie to them, but a mother always knows.”

“I’m not lying to anyone, Mom. It’s none of their business!”

“It is if you make this whole thing some big public spectacle! Of course people are going to talk. And given your…unique personal history, it turns heads. What can I say?”

“My unique history? Getting sexually assaulted isn’t that uncommon, Mom, and it wasn’t my fault.”

“Of course not. But people talk, dear. They know your story.”

“So if people want to gossip, there’s nothing I can do about it.”

Sally sighed, near exhaustion failing to push a smile onto her face. “But you’re creating it, you’re encouraging it. I just…I dunno, dear, I’m just not sure it’s a good idea.”

Lorraine gave that a little reflection, sad assumptions creeping into the back of her mind. “Mom, this doesn’t have anything to do with your real estate office? These rumors aren’t casting any shade on you…professionally?”

Sally’s half-smile was a bit more truthful. “I just don’t want you to be disappointed, dear.”

Her blood felt a bit colder, a sneer on her own face as she looked her mother over. “Well I am, Mother; I’m very, very disappointed.”

* * *

Lorraine sat in the driver’s seat of Griffin’s rented black Mercedes Benz sedan. “Where are we going?” But Griffin didn’t answer, and her stomach turned. She knew the neighborhood they were in. And though Griffin was a stranger to Denver, he could easily have researched the address.

Sables.

He pulled up behind the dance club, virtually empty at that time of the evening.

“Griffin, what’s going on? I don’t understand.”

“You will, Lorraine. At long last, you will.”

He pulled to a stop and got out of the car. “Griffin? Grif?” But he closed the door without a word, crossed around the car, and opened Lorraine’s door. She hesitated, but he put out his hand.

Lorraine didn’t reach for it.

But Griffin wordlessly gestured, drawing his fingers toward himself, drawing Lorraine toward her. She reached out, gently putting her hand in his and letting him pull her out of the car, closing the door behind her.

“What are we doing here, Griffin?”

“We’re facing your past, Lorraine. We’re conquering your fears once and for all.” He put his strong hand around her forearm and guided her gently forward. “Where did it happen?”

“What? Where did what happen?” she knew why she was playing dumb, blotting out the whole matter. She’d been doing it for years, as she’d recently admitted.

But that time had to come to an end; she knew it as well as Griffin did.

“Over here,” Lorraine said, no longer needing to be led. She walked toward the rear exit of the club, only a few cars parked near to where he’d made his move. “He was pretending to be drunk, and he needed air. But once we were outside, he…he changed. He’d… Do we have to do this?”

“We do,” Griffin said, “you do.”

She nodded, knowing she couldn’t defy him even if she should, and she knew she shouldn’t. “Well, he just…he grabbed me and kissed me hard. Then he forced his hands down my pants and started grabbing me down there. I tried to push him away, but he wouldn’t stop. So I reached out, just to knock him away, wound up scratching him across the cheek. His eyes went wide, his whole face seemed to light up, and…he kind of went crazy.”

Lorraine’s voice fluttered with nervousness—residual fear.

“Okay,” Griffin said, a gentle hand on her back to soothe her, “that’s all right. He’s not here now. He’s long gone—miles away.”

Lorraine nodded, looking around the parking lot. Her imagination flashed with those crisp images—being in that place, recalling that moment, Lorraine’s legs began to tremble.

“You’re right, he’s gone.”

“That’s right,” Griffin said. “And this is just a shitty patch of concrete, behind some shitty dance club on some shitty corner in some shitty part of town. There’s no reason any of this should have a hold on you, right? Right?”

Lorraine wanted to agree; she hoped to agree.

So she did. “Right.”

“That’s all behind you now,” he said, setting his hands on her arms and pulling her close. “He was rough; he was a liar and a thief of your virtue, Lorraine.”

“Yes,” she agreed, very softly.

“But I’m not. I treasure your virtue, which you were saving just for me, all this time.”

“Yes.”

“So this place, this event has lost its hold on you; that man has no more control over you. And he never will again.” Lorraine quivered in his gentle grip, voice rolling in the deepest recesses of her inner ears. “This place, it’s not a bad place anymore.”

“No.”

“It’s a good place, Lorraine. Because this is the place where I kissed you just so…” And he did, his lips gently touching hers, their noses brushing against each other. “This is where a sweet thing happened, Lorraine, this beautiful moment between you and me, a moment of love and tenderness.”

“Yes…”

“Yes, Lorraine, yes. This is the time and the place, the very second, the very moment, that you release the past and embrace the present. Here is where fear runs from us. Here is where everything changes forever.”

Lorraine trembled in his grip, her eyes slowly closed before they locked onto his. “How?”

“You know how, Lorraine.”

They kissed again, a gentle touch exploding into an explosive contest of courage and fear, new and old, past and future. There could be no question of what, or who, would win Lorraine’s soul.