"Then let's get you that burger, Freckles." For a minute he wonders how come these damn pills don't come with a month's worth of placebos like the kind the ladies take, or the kind they used to take back when he was payin' attention to those things. For a split second the memory of that photo of Clementine grabs at him, and it's lucky he ain't the tuggin'-on-heartstrings type because she's a real pretty baby.

Guess Cass wasn't payin' good enough attention to what she was supposed to have been takin'. Protection my ass, he wants to say, but doesn't. This ain't the time.

The nearest place with decent burgers is the restaurant back at the resort. "There's a burger place in town, but the fries are greasy as hell. You want to try that anyway, or go to the usual hotel restaurant?"

He's feeling this odd stubborn happiness. It's from thinkin' about yesterday and about the phrase gettin' lucky. He sure feels like he did, and he'd like another one of those, please.

But just as odd as that flicker of happiness is, there's an equally odd stubborn insistence that next time's got to be absolutely mutual. Kate's cagey and he knows that. She don't like commitment. She runs.

So is it to her credit or his that she ain't runnin' right now?