The sun beat down on my head as I placed the incense in the burner in front of my mother's tombstone and bent my head in prayer to her. We were not a religious family, never had been, but I had made sure all of the proper etiquette had been followed for her funeral. She would have wanted it, her parents would have wanted it, and it was no deity to whom I prayed, it was to her memory. Please, I prayed, be at peace; be where you can see me and be proud of me and the decisions I am making.

I felt Teddy's arm around my waist, and I was grateful for his presence. I turned away from her grave, and told him, "I'm finished. We can go."

He nodded, and we walked back to our rental car. He had insisted on renting a convertible, saying it wasn't really a "California experience" without one. I told him I'd lived my entire life in California without owning a convertible, but he'd overruled me. Luckily, the French braid held tight, even in the freeway breeze.

We got in the car, but instead of starting it, he turned to me.

"Um, I have to tell you something," he said. I couldn't see his eyes behind his sunglasses, so I couldn't tell if it was serious or not.

"Okay?" I said inquiringly.

"We don't need to go to the storage place on Pico," he said.

"We don't?" I said, surprised. It was the next stop on my list of things to do. I had to go through my stuff and pack my "winter" things, like jeans, sweaters, what few cold weather items I had, into boxes to ship to Teddy's house in London. "Why not?"

"Um, there's nothing stored there anymore." He said, looking everywhere but at me.

I unbuckled my seat belt so I could turn and face him. "What are you talking about? Everything I own is in there. All the stuff that wouldn't fit in the apartment was in there, and when Ben moved, he put everything that was in the apartment in there."

"And when you agreed to come to London with me, I contacted Ben and had him ship everything that was in there to my house. Just listen, hear me out, hear me out—" He raised his hands as he saw me preparing to absolutely freak out in the front seat of the car. I restrained myself with monumental effort. "I didn't see the point in you paying for storage when I had this huge house with plenty of room to store all your stuff for free, that's all. And I hated to think of all your things in a storage unit with dirt and dust and bugs and rodents and things, I mean why not have them in a room in my house, nice and clean? I was just thinking of you..."

How come when he said it, it sounded so reasonable? "How did you get my stuff out? Didn't you need my signature?" was all I could think to ask.

"Well, it was a joint account, with Ben, so he could do it without you." At least he had the good grace to look at little apologetic about it.

"Why didn't you tell me? Or ask me?" I demanded.

"I knew you'd come up with some bollocks reason to say no," he returned. "Because you're stubborn as anything and won't let people help you. That's why."

"And Ben just said yes?" I asked, disbelieving.

"He took a little convincing, but once he understood I had your best interests at heart, yes, he agreed," Teddy said.

A thought occurred to me. "And how in the hell did you get Ben's number to begin with, hmm?" I demanded.

"Off your phone, when you were sleeping," he admitted. "Fuck, please don't be angry with me. It makes me feel awful. I swear I only wanted to do what was best for you. I thought it would save you money, it would be nice for you to have all your things close by, and that they would be in a nicer environment. That's all, honestly. And I thought you'd be all tiresome and independent about it, and I really, really don't care about the money, but I do care about you, so I just did it. Please forgive me for not asking you first. Shit. I feel like Ronan." He hit the steering wheel, hard enough to honk the horn.

A few people visiting other graves looked over at us.

I sighed. Why did I keep making this boy feel bad, when all he wanted to do was be nice to me? I shifted over and put my arms around him. "Okay, I'll say I'm sorry I was cross, if you'll say you were wrong to go behind my back, hmm?"

His arms came around me with obvious relief. "Deal. I shouldn't have been sneaky. But I know you would've said no, and your stuff would be moldering away in that manky storage unit in the mystical land of 'Pico', wherever that is." He laughed into my neck.

I shook my head. "Pico Boulevard is a street, idiot," I laughed. I continued to hug him, just because. "I love you, Teddy," I said, surprising myself.

"I love you, Birdie, so much." He said, hugging the breath out of me.

I released him and returned to my side of the car, buckling my seat belt. "So, I guess we have a couple of free hours, then, since we don't have to go pack up at the storage unit. How about we get a little shopping done before lunch?"

"Okay, just tell me where to go," he said agreeably, putting the car into gear. I directed him to one of my favorite warehouse thrift stores, where they sold jeans for under $10.00 a pair. He parked the car, and we went in. Hopefully he wouldn't be recognized.

"What a cool place," he said as we entered. It was crammed full of stuff, some vintage and retro, some just old and crappy. We spent a fun couple of hours looking through everything, and I picked up five pairs of jeans and a couple of cute sleeveless blouses that might or might not fit, but for $1.99, they were worth the risk.

Teddy was waiting at the check out with a few items of his own, including a very nice leather jacket. "Look at this, Birdie, look at the stitching. They don't make shit like this anymore, you know? And it's only $50.00! Do people know about this place?"

"What's this?" I picked up a couple of yellow scraps of material. He grabbed it from me, but not before I saw that it was a bikini, with little magenta flowers all over it, still in the original packaging.

"Can we talk about it in the car, please?" he whispered out of the corner of his mouth as the cashier rang us up, the blush creeping up his neck.

"Sure," I responded, covering my smile with my hand. The cashier rang us up all on one tag. "I guess I'll have to owe you for the pants," I said, gesturing toward the receipt.

"Yeah, sure, whatever," he responded. Obviously, the money was the last thing on his mind.

When we got to the car, I turned to him and asked, "So when were you going to tell me about this penchant for women's clothes?" I met his eyes and burst out laughing.

He looked confused for a moment, then he, too, began to smile. "Wait a sec, you think I bought that for myself?"

I stopped laughing. "What do you mean? NO. No no no. We talked about this. No more buying shit for me. Especially that kind of shit. No way on earth would I wear something like that, Theodore Shelley, you know that!"

"Oh, come on, don't start full naming me, it's not even noon yet!" He put his hand over mine. "Look, it's just a stupid bathing suit. It's adorable, and you'd look adorable in it. I have a friend who has a huge house with a huge pool. And we have this free afternoon. I don't think he's even in town, we'd have the run of the place, just you and me. It would be fun. You could show me how to swim properly, especially diving, I've never known how to do a proper dive."

"I could do that in my regular suit," I pointed out.

"But it wouldn't be nearly as much fun for me," he said with a wink and a grin. "No, I'm kidding, obviously you look smashing in your other suit, as you pointed out, it fits you like a sopping wet glove, leaves nothing to the imagination. But I saw this yellow thing with the flowers, and I thought it looked darling. It reminded me of you, and I wanted to see you in it. It was as simple as that, honestly. You look outstanding in yellow, in case you didn't know already. If you don't want to wear it, then don't. The offer to go swimming at Keith's house is still open, though, unless there's something else you'd rather do?"

I looked into his eyes. What could I say to those eyes? I just hoped he never asked me to hurt anyone. Because I probably would. Yes, I would probably do anything he asked.

I nodded. "I have no plans, other than my meeting with Professor Van Dyke tomorrow afternoon. I'm all yours. Let's go swimming."

His face broke into a grin as he pulled out his phone. "I'll text him right now." He dropped a kiss on my nose. "Love you, Birdie," he said quietly.

"Love you back," I said, even more quietly as I turned toward the window.

We were driving down Vine St., looking for a likely place for lunch, when he suddenly turned into a parking lot. "Whoa! See someplace you like?" I asked, hanging on to the door as we swerved into a parking space. He pointed up at the sign. "Trader Joe's?" I asked. "Okay. What, you want, like, one of their sandwiches or something? They also have good salads..."

He shook his head as he got out and came around, opening my door with a flourish. "I mean, sure, sounds fine, but that's not why we're here," he said with a smile. He grabbed a cart as we went in.

"I don't think we'll need a cart for a couple of sandwiches and drinks," I remarked as we entered the crowded store. He just motioned for me to follow him. We perused the pre-packaged food aisle, where he chose two sandwiches and I decided on the eggplant wrap. Then it was on to the beverages, where we both just ended up with bottled water.

"See? I told you," I said, pointing to our nearly empty cart.

"We're not finished yet," he said with a smile. We explored the aisles, until we came to the soaps and lotions, where he started smelling everything, and I finally realized why we were here. I smiled, and pointed out the yellow bottle of shampoo with the matching bar of soap and yellow tube of lotion. I put one of each in the cart. He looked at me, shook his head, and proceeded to empty the shelf of every bottle, bar, and tube. There must have been ten or fifteen of each product in our cart.

"Teddy!" I objected. "I'm only going to be gone for six months, not six years! I couldn't possibly need that much! What if someone else comes in and wants some? It's not fair to the other customers." He thought about it, and returned one of each to the shelf.

"Very considerate of you, love," he said, kissing my forehead. "Now let's get going while the swimming's good, okay?"

He received a text back while we were at our hotel, unloading the boatload of lotion and shampoo. "Keith is actually not out of town, but is glad to know I'm in town. He's having a few people over this afternoon to swim, and would love for us to come, so how's that for a happy coincidence?" He grinned at me. I did not grin back.

"That sounds suspiciously like a party, and a lot like something you should attend on your own, I think," I said.

"No no no no no no!" he said, grabbing me from behind and sitting in a chair, pulling me into his lap. "That's where you're wrong, so so wrong! Listen to me, please, just listen, listen, okay?"

I sat quietly, indicating that I was willing to listen, but I had pretty much made up my mind. Especially after meeting Landon yesterday, I had no interest in knowing any more of his LA friends.

It was as though he could read my mind. "First of all, Landon was not a friend at all, he was a party buddy, just a random asshole I used to get high with who happened to be at the club I went to last night. Keith is an actual friend, a musician friend I've written music with, that the lads know, that we've toured with. We've played BZG with this guy, Birdie," he said.

I had to laugh. "Well, that does change things a bit," I admitted, stroking his hair.

"When he says a few people he means a few, no more than five or six, and when he says to swim, that's what he means, we're all going to be swimming, it's not going to be a meat market. There aren't going to be any groupies or hard drugs there; it'll be guys from his band, and their girlfriends, if they're seeing anyone, and that's all. Please, let's go. I won't go without you, though I would like to see him. You'll like him, you'll like all the people there, I promise you will. It'll be a bunch of band geeks, musicians and singers, talking about amplifiers and what keys things should be in and stuff like that. They probably won't even notice you're a girl, that's what. Please? For me? Darling Birdie?" He kissed my nose and my hand. And then he looked at me. Again with the eyes. What the hell? This was getting ridiculous.

"How long until we leave?" I asked.

"Oh my god, you are so wonderful—" He kissed me, lingeringly, one hand slipping between my thighs. Whoa. "Thank you."

"Does Keith have a last name?"

"Um, Whittaker, Keith Whittaker."