"That seemed to be an infinite task in those days," I agreed. "Now, all of that is history. I know, if I don't do my job right, Tony's girl watching speech can have the same effect on people. But I won't mess up this time."

      "But the two of us weren't the only ones stuck in the rut," Heather remarked. "The whole lot of us got stuck."

      "And we all came out of it together," I replied. "Ross' discovery helped. But I don't think that Mary's work had a great deal to do with that. Mary's work had merely confirmed what we already knew through Helen. Maybe she presented it a bit more clearly. Still, just knowing that we weren't alone in this struggle gave us the courage to move with what we knew, and to develop it further."

      "Is this what the symbol CSB is related to?" Heather asked again and began to smile. "What do the letters really stand for?"

      "Before I tell you the story behind it, let me say that I treasure it as a celebration of coming out of that rut we had all drifted into," I said to Heather.

      "So, what does CSB stand for, Peter?" asked Heather and began to grin.

      "CSB stands for coffee, sex, and biscuits," I said bluntly.

      Heather waved a finger at me as if she was scolding a child, but she didn't say anything. She laughed instead.

      "Honestly, that's what it stands for," I replied and began to laugh too. "It all started with a dream. I was in a restaurant. I saw a waitress approaching with a skirt so short that her pubic hair was visible. She asked if I liked what I saw. I said, no, because Sylvia was with me in my dream. Then I saw her the same waitress at another table where a man had said yes, and I became envious. When I told Sylvia about the dream the next morning, during over our morning coffee, she scolded me. She said that I had answered dishonestly. She told me that I hadn't been honest with myself. Nor had I been honest with her by assuming that she would disapprove of my answer, or that she might not want to join in. So, she got up and restaged the whole thing in real life, right on the balcony, and you know, I did give the right answer this time. Oh yes, we had biscuits that morning, too. The CSB thing became like a celebration after that, of a breakthrough that had been unfolding. We were like a bunch of rebels overthrowing old perceptions like those myths that sex is dirty; that it exists exclusively for procreation; something that you have to have the willpower to abstain from."

      "A human being isn't a breeding machine," Heather commented.

      "That's precisely what Sylvia said," I replied. "That's what we celebrated, Heather. So, what has sex got to do with marriage then?"

      "I think Sylvia answered that by scolding you?" said Heather and grinned. "That's a cute story, Peter."

      "It really ended as a celebration, Heather. We went down to the beach that day. We climbed along the rocks, right to the point at the entrance of the bay and had a picnic there. That is something we had never done before. We stayed there all day. We climbed around all over the place till sundown. It became a real exciting day, a day of a great celebration. It also became somewhat of a tradition after that, especially the coffee, sex, and biscuits part."

      "Coffee, sex, and biscuits," Heather repeated. "I think, I'm not so fond of coffee. I'd sooner have a clear head on such an occasion. Our CSB should stand for, clear-headed living. Sex. And of course, Beautiful mornings."

      "Did you say 'our' CSB?"

      "Why not, Peter, if this can be arranged?" said Heather and grinned. "That's the way it was in the olden days, wasn't it? We just didn't call it that."

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Stories about  Love from novels by Rolf A. F. Witzsche