Death Before Facebook

awfully precocious—sexually, I mean?”
    Cindy Lou shrugged. “Welcome to the nineties.”
    Skip was peeling an onion, and it was making her cry. She turned it over to Cindy Lou. “Here. Don’t you have contacts?”
    “No, but I could use a good cry, just on general principles.”
    “Something wrong?”
    “Just crying for you, babe. About this pickle you’ve gotten yourself into.”
    “Being an auntie, you mean?”
    “Lordy, as my old mama used to say. Better you than me. And the same goes for that Darryl character, by the way.”
    “What’s that supposed to mean? You’re the one with the bad taste.”
    “Yeah, I’d never mess with him—he’s not that bad. But I’m almost attracted to him—and that means he’s trouble.”
    Skip heaved a great sigh. “Are they all trouble? Tell me that.”
    “That Steve’s a pretty good one.”
    Skip turned from the counter, where she was making patties. She was surprised at the anger in her voice. “Well, he’s the one—” She had to stop, to keep herself from bawling. She blinked, but it was too late. Cindy Lou saw the tears.
    “You’re really upset.”
    “He’s not coming, Cindy Lou. For two years, he says. He says he’s developed some great new skill and everybody wants to hire him. But he’ll be here in two years, just like clockwork, he says. Right. Sure.”
    “You don’t believe him, huh?”
    Skip grabbed a paper napkin, the closest thing she saw to a tissue, and sat down at the kitchen table. Cindy Lou was crying too, from the onions. “I didn’t know I was this upset.”
    “That’s because you’ve been flirting with Darryl to distract yourself. That’s baby stuff, girlfriend. You’re mad at Steve and upset with Steve and sad about Steve—might as well go on and deal with it.”
    “Oh, quit sounding like a shrink.”
    “Sorry.” She shrugged. “I guess I just like the guy.”
    “Always a bad sign.”
    “
Au contraire
, regarding other people’s men. In this area, I have quite good taste. Steve’s a classic teddy bear; that Darryl’s a butterfly man.”
    “What on earth are you talking about?”
    “Just a little psychological term I made up. A butterfly man’s beautiful—dazzles you with his gorgeous colors. And what a tongue! You know what a butterfly’s tongue’s like? Kind of this long thing that rolls out? A butterfly man’s got a tongue that won’t quit—he’ll tell you everything you want to hear and when he’s done with that he’ll make up some nice new stuff, all of it just as pretty as all that plumage. Only two things wrong—”
    “He flies away.”
    “Oh, yeah. He flies. He flits from flower to flower—has to, to stay alive. The other thing’s kind of mixed—he’s got a real light touch. You know, like a butterfly kiss? In a way that’s nice and sweet but, I don’t know, in the end you just can’t take him seriously.”
    “Darryl’s a teacher. He went out with me at two A.M. to find Sheila and took us out to eat at three. It’s Steve who doesn’t give a damn about the kids.”
    “I knew one once who was a nuclear physicist. They can have good jobs, and they can be loving—I guess that’s what you’re saying about Darryl—and they can be great with kids because they’re so childlike themselves. But don’t expect them to tell you their innermost thoughts. And if they do, don’t be surprised if they tell you something different tomorrow.”
    Skip was starting to be amused. “Well, who needs innermost thoughts if they’re taking care of things? Like the kids, I mean.”
    “Let me put it another way. ‘Butterfly man’ is just the highly technical professional term for these guys. On the street, they’ve got another word for it.”
    “What’s that?”
    “Con artist.”
    “Oh, come on, Cindy Lou. You mean if I called up Fortier, they’d tell me Darryl didn’t work there?”
    “Oh, probably not. He probably works there. I’m just saying when something looks too good to be true, it usually is.”
    “He doesn’t look too good to be true. He looks just about good enough. Is it too much to ask that a man know how to take care of kids? That’s the part I’m impressed with.”
    “Oh, yeah? This guy doesn’t make you feel singled out? He doesn’t have some way of focusing on you—maybe on you and your whole family, Dee-Dee and Sheila as well—that makes you feel really special? Like he really has deep feelings for you even though he just met you? Tell me something—is