Quinton has left Nola alone in the tent, and Nola has to make a choice between being immature and mature.

"Oh the heck with being mature," Nola says going over and picking up the envelope.

Opening it up, she begins to read the cover letter from Gordon Mitchell:

"Mr. Chamberlain, these are the print outs of the records I was able to obtain from the DMV and Department of Vital Statistics. There are fifty 'Zachary Lance's' living in the United States and Canada. None of these match the person that you wanted investigated. Twenty-five 'Zachary Lances' are over the age of fourty, twenty are under the age of sixteen, four are Afro-American, and one is a post-operative transexual. It would appear that the man residing at the lighthouse is only using 'Zachary Lance' as an alias."

"Damn him! Damn him! Damn him!" Nola cries out in the empty tent.

An unsuspecting Quinton walks in and barely misses being hit in the head with the envelope that Nola throws at him.

"Nola, I was going to tell you. But you didn't give me a chance. I mean, you had half your clothes off before I even knew it."

"Well, maybe that was a mistake. Oh, Quinton, how could you hire some sleazy PI to investigage my friend?"

"I was worried about you."

"I am a grown woman. I do believe I can run my own life. And I believe I can take care of myself. That's what I've been doing for the last year, isn't it?"

"Nola, that's not fair. You could have called me anytime, anytime you needed my help."

"Your help? Quinton, I'm not the damsel in distress. You don't have to keep rescuing me."

"But what did you know about this guy?"

"I know he's my friend."

"He's using an alias."

"Oh, and you wouldn't know anything about something like that, would you, Mr. McCord? Or should I say Sean Ryan? Oh that's right. It's Chamberlain now, isn't it?"

"Nola, that really is a low one."

"Sorry, but that's how I feel now. Low, wicked, mean and nasty, And by the way here's the picnic lunch I packed for us."

"Nola, now think before you do something drastic."

"Something drastic. I'll show you something drastic," Nola says reaching into the basket.

"No, Nola, don't throw the . . . ""

But before Quinton can finish, he is pounded in the headed with a muffin. "Ow! Nola. That hurt! Those things are hard as rocks."

"Oh, my muffins are too hard for you, huh? Maybe you would prefer something softer?" I did make a whole bowl of my potato salad. Remember how you used to love that? Well, here, why don't you take all of it."

"Nola, Don't do . . . that," Quinton cries out as Nola dumps the whole bowl of potato salad on his head.

Nola starts to storm out of the tent, but Quinton grabs her by the wrist and says, "You can't walk out of here like this."

"And why not?"

"Look at yourself."

Nola glances down and then remembers she's only wearing her bra and panties. "Hand me your jacket over there. And don't bother coming by the boarding house to get it back; I'll send it you UPS."

"But Nola . . . "

"I don't want to hear another word. I am out of here. As she starts to walk out of the tent she pauses and says, "But don't worry, Quinton, I think Bridget will be over her migraine tomorrow. I wouldn't want you to lose any more precious work time."

After Nola has walked out, Quinton sits on the cot, and says to himself, "Nola, there's only one thing precious that I've lost, and that's you."

to be continued

Bridget has returned to the digsite and her job as Quinton's assistant.

"Bridget, how's that headache of yours?" Quinton asks as she walks in the tent.

"If you mean Nola, I haven't seen her this morning. She came home yesterday, ran up the stairs, slammed her bedroom door, and she hasn't been out of her room since. Uh Quinton, I hope you don't mind me saying this, but you look like hell, and you sort of smell like . . . potato salad."

"Nola and I had a fight yesterday."

"Well, what's new with that?"

"You don't understand Bridget. For a brief moment, I thought we actually had a chance, a second chance. But then she stormed out of here . . . "

"She was here yesterday. The nerve of her. Sneaking around seeing her husband behind my back."

"What Bridget?"

"Oh, nothing. What did you two fight over, anyway? Was it the divorce settlement? Quinton, you can't let her take too much. Stacey and J are grown; they can get jobs and support themselves, and you never know when you might want to start over again, with somebody else. Somebody else that might have their own little mouth to feed."

"We weren't fighting over the divorce settlement. We were fighting because Nola found out . . . Oh, Bridget, I really don't feel like going into this. I didn't sleep any last night. I don't even feel like working. Why don't you just go home."

"But what about the dig?"

"I'll finish it myself and then I think I'll just leave Springfield."

"Leave Springfield? You can't do that."

"Why not?"

"Why not? Because . . . because who knows, maybe Nola will change her mind."

"Bridget, she was throwing food. Trust me, when Nola's throwing food, she's really mad. I don't think there's any hope now. I appreciate all the help you've given me, but I think maybe it's time, I just gave up, and let Nola get on with her life." "Boy, you do have a defeatist attitude, don't you? I'll go talk to her and try to smooth things over."

"Do you really think you can do that?"

"Just leave it up to me Quinton, and I can almost guarantee you won't be sleeping alone much longer."

To be continued

"Nola, why didn't you tell me you were trying to get back with Quinton?"

"Well, for one thing, Bridget, I didn't know I had to give you an updated agenda of all my activities, and for another thing . . . it didn't work out anyway. I think it's really over between Quinton and me this time."

"Yeah, he said about the same thing."

"You saw him? Did he look upset? What did he say?"

"My, we are full of questions, aren't we? Well, he was upset about the recent turn of events between the two of you, but I think he'll get over it."

"He will? How do you know that?"

"I'm not suppose to tell you this, but Nola, . . . Jessica is still in Springfield."

"I don't believe you. You're lying."

"If I'm lying, then may I end up being a bridesmaid at Hart and Dinah's wedding."

"You're not lying are you? Bridget, tell me. Is Quinton still seeing Jessica?"

"I really shouldn't say anything else. And besides, what does it matter anyway, if things are really over between you and Quinton."

"I guess you're right. It doesn't matter. Quinton and I are through, and that's that. But . . . Is he still seeing Jessica?

"Nola, You sound to me like you're still hung up on the guy."

"I'm not. I'm not."

"Then prove it."

"How do you prove something like that?

"You know what they say about falling off a horse."

"What are you getting at ?"

"If you're really over Quinton, don't you think it's time you got back on another horse. Maybe a horse named Zachary."

"Bridget, Zachary and I are just friends."

"I wouldn't call the looks he gives you 'friendly'."

"That's funny. Quinton said almost the same thing. I thought he was exaggerating. Maybe I shouldn't go to the lighthouse any more."

"Why would you say that?"

"I wouldn't want to give Zachary the wrong idea or lead him on. I care a lot about him, but only as a friend."

"Friends make the best lovers, Nola. And you have to go back to the lighthouse. In fact you have to go tonight."

"Why tonight?"

"Because it's . . . it's Zachary's birthday."

"How do you know that?"

"He told me the last time I was at the lighthouse."

"What were you doing there?"

"What do you care if Zachary and you are just friends?"

"I don't care. But the last time I saw him, he didn't mention anything about today being his birthday."

"He didn't want anyone to know because he doesn't have any friends in Springfield, and he was ashamed of the fact he was going to have to spend his birthday alone. I would go over there, but how could I find a sitter for Peter on a Saturday night? So you have to go, but you can't let him know that I told you about it being his birthday. We wouldn't want him to think you just came over out of pity."

"I don't know, Bridget."

"Listen, I have to go the mall and buy a new dress. You do whatever. But remember Nola, you said Zachary was your friend, and friends don't let friends spend their birthdays alone."

As Bridget it about to walk out the front door, she spots Nola's purse on the hall table. Picking it up, she says to herself, "Now Nola, since I'm going to have a good 'heart to heart' with the third side of this triangle, or the fourth side of this square, or whatever, I think I should give you a little present. Just in case, all goes as planned." Opening up her own purse, Bridget takes out one individually wrapped condom and drops into Nola's. "Boy, this is sure a switch. Me putting things in your purse instead of taking them out."

Bridget starts to zip it back up, but then adds,"Hey she hasn't had a date in over a year, what am I thinking?" And then she drops three more condoms from her own purse into Nola's. "Sorry, Nola that's all you get; I do have to save some for myself. You know you can't be too careful. This isn't the eighties anymore."

Bridget starts to zip her own purse back up and then realizes she still has Quinton's love letter to Nola inside it. She says to herself, as she walks out the door, "I am going to give this to her some day. Just not now. Maybe I'll give it to her on Quinton's and my thirtieth anniversary.

To be continued