The next morning, Bette drove to campus with Gail.  She dropped her off at Beinecke and headed straight to her dorm.  At her door, taking up half the corridor was a box of her belongings that had been at Ash’s apartment.  She unlocked her dorm room and pushed the box in with her foot.  Inside, she rummaged through the box to look for a note from her former boyfriend, but there was none.  She sat on the bed and stared down into the box remembering how each item came to be at his place.  She wasn’t sad, but she conceded defeat.  She had tried something—an intimate relationship with Ashton Schwartz and she had failed at it.  He had done nothing wrong, but she had failed.  It was something she wasn’t used to and she didn’t like the way it made her feel.  But then she thought of Gail, of their kisses, of how it felt to wake up in her arms and that sunshine that Thomas Jefferson had written about so eloquently lit up the very corners of her room and heart.  Bette leaned back on her elbows and smiled, picturing the bright, playful blue and gray eyes of Gail.  It was then that she noticed the tiny, rectangular light blinking red on her answering machine.  She got up, pushed the button and waited for the whir of the tape to cease and the message to begin.

“Hello, Bette.  This is your father.  I received a call this evening from Ashton.  He’s simply wounded and I am very concerned.  Call me immediately.”

Beep.

“Bette, this is your father.”  *Like I wouldn’t know your voice, Daddy,* Bette thought.  “I demand to know what is going on.  I cannot, will not believe the things that I’m hearing from Ashton.  What he’s told me is illogical, absurd.  Call me as soon as you get this message, Bette Porter.”

Beep.

“Bette.  It is 5:30 in the morning.  I’ve just completed my exercises and am trying to reach you.  What is going on up there in New Haven?  I’ve sent you to Yale to get one of the finest educations that this country has to offer and you’re doing–God knows what.  Ashton is beside himself.  I don’t know if you’re aware of this, Bette, but your young man was planning to propose marriage to you in just two weeks.  What has gotten into your head?  I expect to hear from you before Noon today.  If not, I will arrive at Yale this evening.  Do you understand?”