"Becky, you simply cannot go through with this marriage!"

Hearing this from her doctor – who, far more importantly,was also her dear friend, trusted advisor, and quite often hermother in loco parentis – Rebecca Peabody Cunninghamjust sat there with mouth agape, as the good doctor statedunwaveringly this nonmedical conclusion. What had beenscheduled as just a physical examination had obviouslybecome something far more significant, important enoughto rain on her sunny summer day.

Becky had spent the last few years waiting for her knight inshining armor to come forward and sweep her off of her feet,but finally she was forced to acknowledge that her fantasy wasnot going to materialize. Thus she had, however reluctantly,accepted the fact that being the daughter of a prominentBoston Brahmin family came with its responsibilities, and soshe was finally, but sadly, preparing to assume the social roleshe had been born into.

Not inconsistent with this, she had accepted a proposalof marriage from a handsome man with both social andprofessional standing, and her upcoming marriage was to bethe social event of the season, if not the whole decade. Mostof her friends, with one notable exception, thought that themarriage would be perfect. And, truth be told, she did lovethe young man, even if he was not her dream come true.

But now she was hearing her beloved mentor express theopinion that she shouldn't allow social propriety to controlher whole life, causing her to – again – question what she hadaccepted for the past twenty-some years.

Becky had arrived earlier, and was sitting in the waitingroom reading antique magazines when Doctor Morganarrived.

Sarah McKinley Morgan had been the doctor in townfrom the time that Becky could only manage Docca Sawa.She had started out as assistant to her father, a first generationScotsman, practicing in a wing of their large house outside ofBoston. After her father died, Sarah had expanded the medicalpractice, hired several medical associates, and converted thehouse into a professional building.

After Becky's parents had divorced and moved away, andshipped her off to boarding school, Becky had become partof Sarah's world. Indeed, for almost twenty years, DoctorMorgan had become a substitute mother for Becky's usuallyabsent one.

When Sarah came out to the waiting room to greetRebecca with a warm hug and kisses on both cheeks, Beckywas about to share the news of her impending marriage withthe good doctor; but the doctor spoke first.

"Rebecca, my darling, I'm so happy to see you; come onin and take off all of your clothes so I can look at you. WhenI noticed that you were scheduled I had the receptionist clearthe rest of my morning; it's been way too long since our lastchat."

As Becky clutched her clothes and gave her best oh noI'm far too modest to undress look, Sarah chuckled andcontinued, "Just funning you, lass, but here, let me take yourjacket; we'll get the rest of your clothes later. Let's just chatfor a while, shall we? There isn't anything wrong, is there? Imean, you know I'm always glad to see you, but I understandthat this is a professional visit."

"No, nothing's wrong," Becky said, stifling a smile, "Ijust thought it was time for a check-up. I'm finally gonna getmarried this fall, and the honeymoon is in Tahiti, so I thoughtyou might update my shots and whatever."

"Married! Oh my God! To whom? Oh my God, when?Where? Why haven't you told me? Why hasn't your mothertold me? Why haven't I been invited? I thought I kneweverything about you! What have you been doing behind myback, you young wench? You either tell me everything rightnow, lassie, or I swear I'll use rusty instruments on you!"

"Aha! I thought that would get your attention, DoccaSawa," Becky laughed. "Yes, married. Let's see if I can getthis in the right order now – to Derek Cabot Sanderson – onSaturday, October twenty-sixth – at ten o'clock in themorning – in the church on the Common – because I justdropped off the save-the-date notes at the post office. I thinkthat responds fully to today's Scottish inquisition," she saidwith a satisfied smile, "so there's no need to use your garrotetoday.

"Actually, the main purpose of my visit today, other thanyour checking out the body, is to deliver your save-the-datenote personally, so here – and yes, I know I'm a little late withthese, but Mother was a real stickler with the wording of theprenuptial agreement!" she said, thrusting the note out.

"That sounds like Victoria," Sarah said, smiling. "How isyour mother? I haven't seen or even spoken with her in eons."

"Oh, she's fine, I guess – still unmarried, still maintainingher youthful look and girlish figure, still wandering aroundthe world with toy boys, still searching – I'm not sure forwhat," Becky said with a small grimace. "I love her dearly,Sarah, but she sure does frustrate me at times."

"Well, I hope she finds what she's looking for, and I hopethat you have too," Sarah said, with a penetrating look. AsBecky started to smile again, she continued.

"Oh Becky, I'm so happy for you!" as she took the noteand put it on her desk without opening it, then hugged Beckyagain. "I don't believe that I know this Dirk fellow, do I? Theonly Sandersons I'm aware of are the Sanderson Electronicsones, although I don't know any of them personally."

"One and the same, and it's Derek, not Dirk. Derek'sfather runs the company; Derek works there, too – as somesort of crown prince or heir-apparent. I've mentioned him toyou before, and you've seen us together a couple of times, butobviously it didn't imprint on your memory bank."

Wrinkling her brow Sarah said, "Oh, sorry, I suppose Ido sort of remember him, now that you mention it, althoughnot in the context of a potential husband; I guess I thought hewas just a friend and good-looking escort. Well, I surely hopehe knows that he's getting himself a fine bonnie lass – and, asmy Ben would have put it, the pick of the litter.

"Let's see now, October twenty-sixth, let me jot thatdown on my calendar. Oh no, I'm out of town at – oh, nevermind, I'll get rid of that. What time did you say? Where didyou say? Come on, lass, give me those details again!"

When she had finished writing, she looked up and smiled."Oh, Becky, I'm so thrilled and excited for you! We shoulddo something to celebrate, although this probably means I'lllose my favorite traveling companion; let's talk this eveningand check our calendars. All right, let's chat some more whilewe do the exam thing, shall we. Now, young lady, I will takethe rest of those clothes; come on back to the exam room andstrip down."

The half hour exam, coupled with their catching-up chat,took the better part of the morning, after which Sarah said,"You get dressed now, and come on back to my room."Sarah's reference to my room reflected the fact that it washer bedroom when she was living at home with her parents.Even though the house had long since been converted into aprofessional building, her own office still had the ambianceof a proper Scottish lady's comfortable sitting room.

Becky was back in just a few minutes, still buttoning thelast buttons on her blouse.

"Well, Docca Sawa, how'd I check out?" she asked,grinning at Sarah and receiving a warm smile in return.

"Everything looks just fine to me, lass. Of course theblood work will take a couple of days, but I don't think youhave anything to worry about. I should tell you though, asyour faithful doctor lady, to put on a few pounds, but I knowyou never do anything I say anyway."

"Well, as Mother says, you can never be too rich or tooskinny," replied Becky, admiring how Sarah had retained heryouthful face and figure, despite being in her middle fifties.

"Personally," Sarah retorted, "I think you look fantastic,despite what those actuarial charts show. By the way, I dobelieve that you could be my only female patient who seemsto have paid some attention to my old-fashioned views onpremarital sex – not that it surprises me, though; you'vealways been a stickler for what's right and proper. I guess allthose long talks you and I have had paid off."

"Oh, I suppose I should say yes, thank you, I doremember. And of course I always do everything you say,Doctor Morgan, which is why you just might have beforeyou one of the last pristine twenty-seven-year-old virgins incaptivity; I think most have been lured into virtual extinction.Or is that virginal extinction? But, as you well know, Sarah,"Becky said, wrinkling her brow, "my relationships over theyears haven't been exactly libido-challenging."

"Yes, you've always done what you thought was right,Becky, no matter how much I tried to ease you out of that'perfect child' mode," said Sarah.

Smiling, Becky said, "Anyway, so far it's been easy tokeep Derek at bay – well, at least for the most part."

"Uh oh," said Sarah, wrinkling her brow and lookingover her glasses at Becky. "What am I hearing, or shouldI say, what am I not hearing? You should be chafing at thebit to get to your marital bed, Becca, even if just due tohereditary hormones. Contrary to what you'd probably liketo believe, biology dictated that you do have at least some ofyour mother's genes."

Seeing Becky wrinkle her nose once again at the mentionof her mother, she continued, "I know, I know, you've hadyour whole life planned out ever since you were ten, whenyour parents divorced – what a fiasco that was. I seem torecall your tearful face when you swore to me that you'dnever do that to your children. But no matter what Victoria'sfamily said, your parents were madly in love, and, I suspect,they still are. So, exactly why has it been easy to keep Derek atbay? Not that I'm suggesting you should not have, mind you!"

"Sarah, I told Derek I'd marry him, and, logically, it'sthe right and proper thing to do. Most of our mutual friendsthink I should marry him, and his father and mother arealready treating me like a daughter – although probablyjust because it'll be linking the Cabot and Peabody names.Derek's mother is a Cabot, and his father tries to act like hethinks a Brahmin should act just because he married a Cabot.Hell, they've already decided where we'll live and where ourkids will go to college; it seems like the perfect match-up. Sonow I'm going to get married, and since there's no knightin shining armor coming after me, I need to get on with mylife. I can be content with Derek, Sarah, and I'll make him agood wife."

"My dear girl," Sarah said, going to her and putting herarm around her, "you've spent your life doing what's rightand proper; don't let that control how you pick a life partner.I thought you said you wanted a relationship like Ben and Ihad. I know that deep down you've always wanted a knightlike Ben to sweep you off your feet. Would I be right inthinking that Derek is not that knight?"

When Becky's expression changed, Sarah smiled a smugand self-satisfied smile; "Just as I suspected, there's anotherman in the picture – some lucky man who's stolen my Becky'sheart!"

"No, Doctor, my heart has been stolen, as you put it, butnot by a real person, only by a fantasy," sighed Becky, smilinga sad smile as she settled back in the chair.

"Sarah, there is another man, sort of, but only in mydreams; and I've finally conceded that it's just a ridiculouslylong-lasting infatuation, because we've never been togetherin any sort of romantic way. I mean, like, well, he knows me,and he even seems to like and admire me, but he doesn't knowhow I feel about him.

"We've run into each other over the past few years atvarious charitable and social events, and he's seen me withDerek. But if he'd been at all interested, he would have steppedin and snatched me away by now, or at least made some sortof overture. I have, therefore, given up on him ever thinkingof me as a wife, or even a mistress – which, by the way, I'dagree to in a second if he were to ask"

She smiled at the doctor's frowning disapproval of her lastremark and continued. "While I don't actually see him all thatoften, this man shows up regularly in these wonderfully eroticfantasies of mine; I fall asleep dreaming of him more oftenthan I care to admit, so I guess it's true my mother's genesare lurking somewhere in my DNA. But that's all behind menow; I've set the date with Derek, and that's that."

"Oh, my poor dear," Sarah said, "let me see if I understandthis. You've met that one man of your dreams – who doesn'tknow he's the man of your dreams – and you're going tomarry whatshisname, without telling the man of your dreamsthat he's the man of your dreams – all the while lettingwhatshisname think that he's the man of your dreams. Nowyou tell me, Rebecca Peabody Cunningham, what's wrongwith this picture!"

Sarah paused, then spoke the words that had so shockedBecky. "You simply cannot go through with this marriage!"

As Becky just sat there, still stunned, the doctor continued,"What's stopping you from telling this fantasy man how youfeel, or at least delivering a wee hint to the gentleman?"

"Oh, Sarah, I've thought about that so often – a couple oftimes I almost convinced myself to do exactly that. The lasttime I saw Chandler, he hugged me politely and I was temptedto just hold on and tell him how I feel about him – but Ididn't. Let's see, what stopped me? How about – he's nevergiven me the slightest opening to talk personally with him.He'd be horrified if I told him he has the leading role in everysingle one of my erotic fantasies, and I don't want to chancelosing whatever relationship we do seem to have, as pitifullyunsatisfying as it is. And, Sarah, for all I know he probablyhas some sort of committed female relationship already.

"Imagine me grabbing onto him and saying somethinglike, Oh, by the way, Chandler, I'm madly in love with you.He'd think I was crazy, or drunk, or on drugs, and it coulddestroy the casual friendship we do have – or at least make itunbearably awkward. So since my foolish dreams can neverbe fulfilled, I need to get on with what can work, whichI've now logically concluded is marriage to Derek CabotSanderson!"

"Poppycock," said the doctor, "I've never heard of suchgibberish! You're talking about men and relationships, so thatmake sold Widow Morgan the authority! Believe me, women dotalk to men about things like that; why, just the other night, I ...,and as Becky smiled and raised her eyebrows she said, "oh,never mind, stop being so damned nosy; now you're reallygetting to be like your mother!" As Becky wrinkled her noseagain, Sarah just sighed and continued.

"I say, lassie, if you won't tell him, why don't you just tellme who he is, and then I'll go tell him? On the other hand,if he's as fantastic as you say he is, maybe I'll just speak formyself. Men do like older women, you know, they say that

we're much more giving – whoever the hell they are."Sarah smiled, got up, and came around the desk to siton the arm of Becky's chair, putting her arm around herand giving her a squeeze. "I'm just kidding, of course – well,maybe I'm just kidding. Who did you say the gentleman is?Oh, you didn't, did you. And is Chandler his first name orhis last?" At Becky's shrug, Sarah continued, "Not going totell me, eh. Never mind, I'll just call Jane Potter and get itout of her."

"Won't do you any good," Becky smirked, "I haven'ttold Jane who he is either; it drives her batty not knowing;it's probably the only thing about me she doesn't know. Shehas known about my having a fantasy man for some timenow, and sorta thinks I should just throw myself at him; butthat's Jane, not me. I could never do anything like that; I amcertainly not going to embarrass the family like my mothercontinues to do."

Ever since the divorce, Becky's mother had openly scornedboth her family and Brahmin society, seemingly doingeverything possible to embarrass everyone with her patternof global wanderings with young gigolos.