Somewhere, out there in the world, people were asleep. I could just imagine them, curled up inside blankets with eyes closed and breathing in and out without a care in the world. Unlike me, currently laying on my back in bed and staring up at the ceiling. Alex was asleep to my right. His back was to me and quiet snores emanated from his side of the bed. Lucky bastard.

I never slept well. When I was a kid, nap time was torture. I did the same lay on the back stare at the ceiling thing back then, too. I still remember that. Every other kid was fast asleep. All I wanted to do was get up out of that boring old cot and do anything other than just lie there. I spent all night in high school up and down, in and out of bed. I was a basket case come morning and that tendency lasted with me to this day. Well - this night.

I sighed and slowly rolled out of bed. A doctor once told me to get up if I couldn’t sleep. I should do something else like read or watch television until I felt tired again. Sometimes that worked, but most of the time I never made it out of the sack. I just lay there like an idiot trying to feel tired. A lot of good that did me. I was beginning to think I’d never sleep off the bags underneath my eyes.

A night of sleep - one night of sleep, I told myself as I walked slowly downstairs. Can’t I just have one stupid little night of sleep without an over active brain and hot flashes all night? No, I realized. I guess not.

I walked down to the living room and sat down on the couch, wondering what to do with myself now that I was up. Stare at another ceiling? Work on my computer? I didn’t want to work on my computer. I’d done that all day and I’d do it again all day tomorrow - well, today, given the time. I picked up a book but was too bleary to make much sense of it.

Then, I realized it. There was one thing I could do. It would keep me occupied for as long as I wanted and I certainly wouldn’t be waking anyone up. She’d be up too. Two insomniacs, two hot flashers, two peas in a very hot pod. Yes, I could do that and then go back to sleep. I picked up the phone and dialed, hoping.

One ring.

Two rings.


Three rings.

Four rings.

Five rings.

Then the phone was answered: “Who the fuck is this and do you know what time it is?” Della’s voice screamed at me through the phone. “I'm gonna rip your balls out, you son of a bitch!”

I stared at the phone, mouth agape. Uh, oh. Boy, I timed that one right. We were sure both up now. “Oh I’m sorry, Della. I thought you were up.”

There was an abrupt, embarrassed silence on the other end. “Maggie?” Della said, finally.

“Yup.”

“I’m sorry. I thought you were my cousin. He always calls me in the middle of the night. I was going to scare him one good.”

“Did I wake you up?”

Della made a rude sound at the other end, kind of like a game show buzzer going off. “Aaaaggggggggggg! No! Do you think you woke me up?”

“No. I just wanted to talk to someone else who’d also be up at 2:30 am.”

She laughed. “Well, that’s me, sister.”

I relaxed, finally, and tried to get over the embarrassment. “So,” I asked. “What’cha doing?”

“Same thing you’re doing.”

“Huh?”


“Talking to someone on the phone who can’t sleep,” she retorted. “God you can be dense at 2:30 in the morning. Jeez, just thought I’d hop in the car and take her out on the open road. You know, feel the wind in my hair. Wait I just got my hair cut. Good thing I don’t have a car then. What if a cop caught me blowing my ears in the wind?”

Well, Della was making about as much sense as I was at that point. “I’ll take you out in my car,” I offered, adding to the stupidity of our conversation.

Della tsk’d. “With all the drugs you’re taking to get to sleep. Girl, you’d ram right into a lamp post. Besides, I can’t see shit at night. No, wait. That might be the best thing, given how you’d be driving. Who’d want to see that?”

“Mmmmmphhh,” I offered.

Della sounded a bit more concerned now. “Oh girl, you really are tired, aren’t you?”

“Yeah,” I moaned.

“And you can’t sleep?”

“No.”

“Poor little thing.” Della was being motherly now. I’m sure she’d be tucking me into bed and telling me bedtime stories if she could somehow swing it. I was suddenly glad she couldn’t see at night. “The drug’s aren’t working?”

I rubbed my eyes. “Well, they do eventually. But, you know, same old shit. The brain won’t turn off. Then I roll over and I’m up again because I’m too hot.”

“Oh yeah, honey,” Della replied, still consoling. “I know that routine, oh yeah. Me? I take drugs and fall asleep for, oh, about 45 minutes. Then I’ve got a copper taste in my mouth for days. My doctor’s telling me to take up yoga and foot massage.”

“Sounds nice.”

“I can yoga and foot massage myself into the next town for all the good it’ll do me,” Della replied. “So, what are you doing tomorrow, or is it today now?”

“I have no idea. All I want to do is sleep.”


“Hah!” Della peppered me over the phone again, but this time I could hear the smile in her voice. “Now tell you what, little Maggie. You take those little feet of yours right back upstairs and kick Alex until he stops snoring. Then you cuddle up under those covers and pretend your mom just tucked you in. Tell yourself a bedtime story. And then tomorrow, my dear” She trailed off.

“Yes? Tomorrow?” I asked.

“You and I are going to have a day of getting us tired!”

“What?” Now it was my turn to shout. I knew Della and wasn’t sure I was up to this.

“Oh, now, listen to your auntie Della. You and I are going to sleep like babies after we’re done. My goodness, I should have thought of this before!" She sounded absolutely triumphant.

“Just what have you got in mind, Della my dear?”

She cackled. “Never you mind, little Maggie. Never you mind. You just leave it up to me.”

I went back to bed, nudged Alex onto his side and slept poorly for the rest of the night. I met Della at her door the next morning, propping open my heavy eyes. She, on the other hand, greeted me with a wide smile and looked bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. I hated her at that moment.

“Okay, Maggie," she said, adjusting a handbag and removing a white cane from its depths. She snapped it open, ready for action. "Now, before we do anything more, you've got to promise me that you won't tell a living soul about what we're doing today."

"Huh? Why?" I asked, suddenly suspicious.

"Not a word!" She insisted.

Not even Alex?" I asked. "He's going to want to know."

She looked at me sternly and shook her head. "Not even Alex," she warned, then raised her hand. "You have to pinkie-swear on it!” She held out her little finger and waggled it.

I just stared at her again. "Pinky swear?" I repeated. "Oh for God's sake, what is this, kindergarten?" Della didn't answer, just held up her hand insistently. I gave in. "Okay, okay, I swear.” I wrapped my little finger around hers and we shook. “Now can you please tell me where we're going and why I had to bring all these clothes with me?" I raised a day pack, stuffed with the clothing Della insisted I bring along.

She shook her head. "Nope. You'll find out when we get there."

At this point I was starting to feel a tad peevish. First pinky swears and now hush-hush on the location. Where was she taking me anyway? Was there a reason she didn't want me to tell Alex about this? No, I realized. I didn't want to know - not with Della. I suddenly imagined myself swinging around a pole in a topless nightclub. Granted, it would be great exercise, but a walk along the Charles River would be a lot easier to explain to my husband. I turned back to Della. "So, you're not going to tell me, even though I'm driving?"

Della gave me that Cheshire Cat look: all grinning teeth. “You've got the GPS I bought for you in the car?”

“Yes." I loved that gift. I hadn't been late for an appointment since Della got it for me. Alex hated it, but he was a guy. God forbid someone else should give him directions.

Della shook her head. “I’ll tell you in the car. And, before we go: the cell phone goes off.”


“What???”

“Off, or forget it. No cells allowed, period.”

I stared at her in exasperation. Me without a cell phone? Like millions of other people, it was permanently attached to my ear. Della hated them except for emergencies and cabs. I sighed, seeing that I wasn’t going to get anywhere with her and finally hit the button to turn it off. “Happy now?”

“Yes, come on.” I placed Della's hand on my shoulder and, together, we headed to the car. Once we were ready Della gave me the address and insisted I do nothing to program it permanently into the GPS. I just looked at her. "I can't risk someone finding the address," she explained. "It would cost me my membership.”

I immediately turned the car off. “What?" I exclaimed. "What the heck kind of club are you taking me to?”

Della put on her best Groucho Marx impression and wiggled her eyebrows at me. “My dear, I wouldn't join any club that would have me as a member. Step on it.”

"This place doesn't have a pole in the center by any chance, does it?" I asked, really worried now. "No feather boas lying around? Pasties?"

Della's eyes popped open. "Oh my God!" she exclaimed. "I didn't know you went to those kind of places too! Nah, I had to quit a few years ago. Got to a point where I couldn't see for shit front or back. Waste of money." She looked pensive for a moment. "I don't think this place has a room like that. At least they never mentioned it. Maybe I should ask?" She turned back to me. "I mean, I could take you to the place I used to go, if you'd rather try that..."

"No!" I started the car and cut off the conversation. It was not going in any direction I wanted it to go.

We drove a few narrow streets and ended up in an alley. We finally arrived at a parking lot in a fenced in area. The building looked like a run down, three-story factory. We parked and Della hopped out quickly. I put away the GPS and got my things, following in puzzlement. She was really anxious to get into this dump.

“Come on. Hurry up.” She headed towards a steel door, white cane feeling the sidewalk ahead of her. I hurried to catch up. “Is there anyone around?”

“What?” I looked around, wondering if she'd heard or felt something. “No...why?”

Della knocked twice. Then she paused and knocked twice again. A small slit int he door opened. “Puppy dog tails and bubblegum!” Della announced. The door opened immediately. Della grabbed my arm and pulled me in quickly. I was in a tiny room with just a table and chair, along with a tall man who smiled and hugged Della.

"What is this place?" I asked.


Della made some quick introductions. “Maggie, Charlie. Charlie, Maggie. She needs help. Badly.”

Charlie smiled as he led Della to the table and put something in her hand. Then he placed her hand on a book. “Nice to meet you Maggie. Della’s friends are welcome here. Sign in please.” He handed me a crayon.

I took the crayon and looked at it. Then I looked at the table and saw a grade school composition book. “You’re kidding!" I exclaimed. "I haven’t seen one of those since...kindergarten.” I signed and looked at Della rocking back and forth on her heels. Were we picking up a theme here?

Charlie waved before walking off. “Have fun ladies. Been nice seeing you. Maggie, let me know how it goes.”

I just smiled and grabbed Della’s arm. She pointed to a door as it buzzed. Oh great another door. “What the heck is this?" I asked "‘I Spy’? ‘The Man From U.N.C.L.E.’? “

“No just a private club. Ladies dressing rooms on the right. “ We headed into a room filled with gray gym lockers. Della sat on a bench and threw her things into one of them. She was changing her clothes rather quickly. “Come on!”

“Della what IS this place? “ I sat down and started to get dressed in the jeans, t-shirt and sneakers she asked me to bring.

“Your fondest memories," she replied cryptically. "Come on slow poke. I want to get in there.” She tapped her way down the row, heading off without me. I quickly finished dressing and caught up to her.

“I’m coming.” I put her hand on my shoulder and we kept walking, finally coming to a door. Della got to the handle first.

“Welcome to....” As she opened the door. "Your Fondest Memories!"

“Oh...my...God," I stuttered. I was in a room that looked like it was designed for kids from a giant world. In one corner was a slide easily two or three stories high. A gigantic sandbox sat in the opposite corner, next to an adult-sized jungle gym. A group of see-saws took up the middle of the room. “What the heck?" I finally stuttered, then cottoned on. "Wait a minute, wait a minute!" I looked around again. "I'm on Candid Camera, right? Right?" I turned to Della, looking for a telltale sign. "Or Willie Wonka and the Chocolate Factory?"

“Well if you want that much chocolate," she replied "I mean, you can if you want to, but you have to clean what you barf up. Me? I'm hitting the slide and swings before lunch.”

"But..." I still couldn't believe what I was looking at. Not Candid Camera? "These are all kids things - huge kids' things!"

Della laughed and clapped her hands, reminding me immediately of an eight year old. “Yeah!" she exclaimed. "It's cool, isn’t it? Adult sized swings, three-story slide, see-saws and monkey bars. Heaven!”

I was still peevish and now not a little confused. "Oh," I said, trying to sound sarcastic. "And don't forget the sandbox that looks like it belongs to a construction company."
Della shrugged, oblivious to my aggravation. “Okay, if that floats your boat. But, you know, there are also hula hoops and a huge pool, spring rocking horses and....”

“Della you are out of your ever loving mind?” I practically screamed in Della's ear.

She stopped and shook her head. “Oh man, here I thought you would find that kid in you again." There was a tone of disappointment in her voice. "Damn it, Maggie! Remember how you played so hard all day and slept like a log? No cares, no worries, just fun? We all need to do that once in a while. I promise, if you don’t like it, we’ll leave. But can you give it an hour or two?”

I thought about that for a minute. Childhood. No cares, no worries. Big, comforting people carrying you from place to place. You got to play with coloring books or bang pots and pans to your heart's content Oh, what the heck. “So, what do you do first?” I said, tentatively.

Della beamed. “It's your childhood, Maggie.Make it what you want it to be," she announced. "Go on, really! Have a look around. There's a room where you can have stories read to you, where you can finger paint, bake cookies, whatever you want. Don't worry about me. These people are my buds! They will make sure I’m okay. I’m going to head to the slide, it’s a three story climb....unless you take the elevator. “ I looked around and saw someone coming down the slide, squealing like a five-year-old. She went round and round and then landed on a soft, rubberized pad.

I still wasn't sure about all this. "Della," I said quietly. "I'm sure this is all very nice, but I don't need to go back to my childhood. I don't want to swing on giant swings or play in a giant sandbox. All I want to do is sleep. If I want exercise I'll walk for an hour or two." I hoped she wouldn't be offended. This just wasn't for me.

Della shook her head again and took me aside. "Maggie," she explained, patient. "We all have our version of childhood. Okay, so maybe this one's mine." She admitted. "My mom died when I was young and my dad...well, let's just say my dad didn't didn't really know how to deal with a kid. I grew up fast. I took over the household. I cooked, cleaned, the whole bit. This is what I do when those memories get in the way. You can do this too. You can be a kid again, Maggie."

I looked over at her, trying to understand. "I guess," I admitted, not quite sure what to do or say next.

"You don't have to go into a sandbox, but you do have to become a child again," she said. "Think, Maggie, and find your childhood. It's here. They'll make one for you, but you have to tell them what you need. What did you like the best about being a kid?"

"Well," I began. "Peace of mind. People who took care of me."

Della smiled. "Good start, Maggie! Find it here, or make it here. There are people who can help." She suddenly frowned. "They better help, for what I'm paying for this." Suddenly another woman skipped up to Della and grabbed her hand. "See-saws!" she said. "Come swing with me, Della. And then let's go on the slide!"

Della was suddenly a kid as the woman led her to the play area. She turned back to me before beginning her play. "Maggie, go to one of the staff people here. They'll find you your childhood!" She waved goodbye, then giggled like a schoolgirl as she followed behind the woman.

I sighed and looked around as a young man walked towards me, smiling. "Hello," he said and extended his hand. "You must be Maggie. Tell me, what kinds of activities did you enjoy as a child that you think you'd enjoy now?"

I backed off a bit, feeling intensely uncomfortable and self-conscious. Behind me, Della was hollering and going down the slide backwards. She landed at the rubbery base and laughed like a crazy woman. What the hell was I doing here? I wanted to sleep, not feel like an idiot.

The man smiled and moved towards me. "Feeling a little strange?"

"To say the least," I replied.

"Don't worry," he said. "A lot of our clients go through this. It's hard to let go, find that inner child." He looked behind him. "I envy your friend, Della. She never really lost that. She really needs to come here more often."

"I guess." I looked around at the gigantic play room. Who were these people?

"So," The man interrupted my thoughts. "My name's George. Let's play."

"Della brought me here because I can't sleep," I explained. "How is this going to help?"

George smiled. "What did you like to do when you were a kid?"

I thought for a minute. "Well...lots of stuff, but..."

George raised a hand. "Step at a time, Maggie. How about something you like to do now that you liked to do when you were a kid? We'll start there and work backwards."

I sighed and looked back at George. "Well," I thought, "when I was a kid my parents read to me all the time. Sometimes, when I write, I use a synthesized voice to read it back to me, like a story teller but with very bad pronunciation."

George's face broke into a wide, happy smile. "Perfect!" He exclaimed. "We'll start there. A lot of our clients love that, too. We have an entire room of fiction, all of it escapist. Would you like a mystery perhaps, or an historical novel to start with?"

"Bernard Cornwell?" I asked, trying to stump him. "Some of his ancient Egyptian stories? Oh! Or maybe Wilbur Smith for the same era?" No kid stuff there.

George was unfazed. "That's great!. Our reading room is right behind here. Would you like a man or a woman reader?"

I followed George to a comfortable room and spent the next few hours in a lounger, shutting my eyes as stories were read to me. The readers were excellent, leaving the bulk of the tale to my imagination but making sure their voices kept me fully in the story. After a while, though, I began to get hungry. I opened my eyes in time to see Della being escorted into the reading room by the same friend who took her hand at the playground. "Hey, Del!" I said. "You hungry?"

That's why I'm here!" she exclaimed. "I've had a morning of see-sawing, playing in the sandbox and swinging so high I thought I'd go over the top. I'm exhausted and starving! How about you?"

I stood up and stretched, then placed Della's hand on my shoulder. I directed her to the elevators and we were lifted to the third floor. I smelled food as the doors opened. Della suddenly laughed. “I am not getting anything here that's healthy. It’s home cooking, and memory food for me: peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, pizza, hamburgers, hot dogs, ice cream, everything junk. I love it here.”

I cringed. “Surely there’s something...” I looked over the list on the wall, written in black magic marker like graffiti. “Oh Lord, Della! There's nothing on your tray but crap!”

Della laughed and held onto a tray loaded with pizza, hamburgers, french fries and cheese curls. "Awww, come on, little Maggie!" she taunted. "You didn't have any favorite kid foods? You didn't like hot dogs?"

"No," I replied.

"You didn't get all excited about going to McDonald's?"

I screwed my face. "We never went to places like that. My dad thought the burgers there tasted like cardboard. Besides, we almost never ate out when I was a kid."

"So didn't mom or dad make fun stuff you always wanted to have?"

I thought for a minute. My childhood was not one filled with culinary adventures. That came later. I remembered a childhood full of pretty boring food, albeit with a few taste worthy exceptions. "My grandmother made chicken soup," I ventured. "The best part were the homemade noodles: kluski in Polish. My other grandmother made beet soup. That was pretty good, too."

"We can accommodate that!" George was suddenly behind us, still smiling. "If you can get me the recipes we can make it for you. Comes with the plan."

Della fingered a cheese curl and held it to her mouth for a moment before popping it in and chewing. "Beet soup," she shuddered. "You did have a deprived childhood. Ugh...beet soup."

"It was good!" I enthused, remembered chunks of beets in a creamy pink broth with butter-soft bites of meat. It was fabulous and I couldn't get enough of it. And, at my grandmother's house, you never went home hungry. That wasn't the immigrant way. She was a round, loud woman who scared the heck out of me. Put her in the kitchen, though, and Julia Child wouldn't stand a chance. She didn't use recipes, yet had the flakiest pie crusts, the most tender roasts and the greatest beet soup I'd ever had anywhere. And that was only one grandmother. I had another one who lived with us and cooked regularly. No doubt about it, I was in comfort-food land, Polish style.

Della snorted and made her way down the line, with a little help from dozens of friends who made sure she didn't lose her way. I followed, looking around for more appetizing foods. Della's tray would have sent me to the hospital from the reflux. "I love McDonald's!" she said, as someone pushed a Creamsicle onto her tray. "Give me those little pies in a pouch over a salad any day!" I cringed, again, then reached for a salad myself. It was the safest thing in the room.

"Della," I warned. "You're going to make yourself sick. You have nothing on your plate but empty calories and bad cholesterol. I don't want to have to drive to the hospital after lunch."


She waved me off with a hand. “Don't worry, Maggie. I'll burn it off finger painting and jumping rope. Oh, hey - and I have a special surprise for later.”

More surprises? I wasn't sure I'd survive the shock at this point. “Oh? Dare I ask?”

“A massage," she announced, to my surprise. Weren't those for grownups? "They have them here. I signed us up for them an hour before we go home.”

Della and I found a table and sat down together. I took various toxic substances from her tray and placed them in front of her. I had found a Cobb salad with a fresh-baked roll. That would be fine for me. "And when are we going home, by the way?" I realized I wasn't in any real hurry to leave. I had stopped in the middle of an Agatha Christie cozy and wanted to find out whodunit.

"We're going to be here all day," Della replied. "Don't worry, you'll still be hungry for dinner."

That sly Della. “So, you were planning to keep me here all this time? Aren't you taking a bit of a risk? What if I'd backed off and said I wanted to leave?" I could stand to have more stories read to me. If anyone else found out, though, I'd be the laughing stock of all time. I cringed again when I thought of Alex.

“You wondering about Alex?” Della shoved pizza into her mouth, suddenly clairvoyant.

“Why not ask both of us and not just me?"

“Well, each person gets to bring in one additional member. I’ve been here a few months and usually come during the day to blow off steam. When you called last night I thought of this place, first thing. It never occurred to me to come here to help me sleep, though. I have to thank you for that, even if I did almost rip your head off when you called."

"Yeah, but I'm not sure..." I wasn't sure how to say this without hurting her feelings. "I mean, it's nice to have stuff read to me and I'm very glad you're happy here."

"Give it some time, Maggie. That's all I'm asking." Della suddenly looked a bit nervous. "Maggie," she started, and cleared her throat. "This is a great place. It really is. And, uh, well - you were the first person I wanted to share this with - maybe the only person. If you stay, you can bring Alex in after a year. Membership is not cheap. I...well...I paid the first year for you already.” She looked down, reddening.

“What?” I almost dropped my fork. This was more important to her than I thought. I suddenly felt very weepy. "Oh, Del..." I reached over and hugged her, giving her short white hair a kiss. "You wonderful, crazy...ohhhh!"

Della hugged me back and we embraced, long and hard. “I thought you could use it. Like I said, it’s not cheap but....you are the first person I thought of for this place. It's very special to me.”

“Wow, I’m ...wow. Really? Thanks." I'd give it a try. Della had that kid aspect to her. Maybe she and George were right: I needed to loosen up, find my inner child and skip with her to the nearest sandbox. Or maybe I was just feeling loopy at that moment in time. Della returned to her pizza and I picked at my salad.

By the end of the day I'd gone through most of another Agatha Christie mystery and signed up for a Monopoly board game the next day. I recited the chicken soup recipe from memory and George said he'd be able to find a kluski recipe from some of his other Polish clients. We'd have that for lunch the next day - assuming we wanted to come back the next day. I did, and so did Della. She even agreed to try the soup and forego the cheese curls. I think George had a private chat with her about nutrition, just like any good parent. Della had spent the day sliding, digging, swinging and hula hooping to her heart's content and looked about ready to pass out. I was definitely feeling more calm. I drove Della home, had a quiet dinner with Alex - who seemed to buy my story about spending the day doing research at the library - and made my way upstairs to bed. It was 10:00 pm.

11:00 pm. I was staring at the ceiling.

11:30 pm. I was still staring at the ceiling.

Then I remembered nothing, until 2:30 am. I was dreaming about a bell that kept going off. I was sitting in a chair and didn't want to get up. Ding, ding, ding, ding. My brain clicked on and I opened an eye. It was the phone. Alex was asleep, sawing down the Maine north woods. I sleepily yanked tangled covers off and eventually pulled myself from the bed, weaving across the room and out of the door to the phone in the next room. I picked up, just before the answering machine kicked in. "Mmmmph, ello?" I muttered.

"Maggie?" It was Della. "Maggie? Oh my God, did I wake you up?" She sounded distraught. At least, I think she did. My brain wasn't quite up to its normal processing speed.

Della? "Della?" I asked. "Is everything okay, hon?"

"Oh, I'm fine. I was just worried, maybe you weren't asleep."

"Well, I was asleep," I said, trying not to sound miffed. "But that's okay."

"Uh," Della continued. "I just wondered, after today..."

"Yeah?"

"Are you okay with what I did? You're not mad at me or anything, are you?"

I chuckled. There were times when she frustrated me, particularly after a junk food fest, but this was not one of those times. I liked that place, giant swing sets and all. I liked the stories and I was really looking forward to my comfort-food lunch. I hadn't played Monopoly in years. Besides, it was also an excuse to hang out with Della. That was something I always enjoyed doing, exasperation or no. Della was just looking out for me. I just wasn't sure about the sleep problem. My brain chemistry was a bastard that way. "I'm not mad, Della," I said. "I wasn't expecting to enjoy it, but I tried to keep an open mind and I really did have fun."

"But?" Damn, she heard that.

"I'm just not sure if it will help me sleep," I admitted. "Nothing I've ever tried so far has. And Alex - I just feel kind of strange not letting him know." How was I going to keep this a secret for an entire year? It wasn't the way my husband and I operated. "I think I'll have to tell him, Della," I said. "We just don't keep those kind of secrets."

"Sure," Della said. "I guess you could."

"I mean, aren't there husbands and wives as members together?" I asked. Then again, this was Alex. I tried to imaging him being a child again. I'd had trouble imaging myself in that position. For the life of me, I couldn't imagine Alex doing that at all. He'd just make fun of it - and maybe me. I wasn't sure where to start.

"No," Della said. "No couples are admitted as one. It's about the individual. That's what they explained to me anyway. Your childhood was not the same as your spouse's. Now, if your spouse wants to join separately, that's another matter."

"Hmmmm," I mused.

"Maggie?" I suddenly heard Alex's voice. "Who are you talking to?"

I swung around. "Uh...Della," I said.

"At 2 in the morning?"

"She couldn't sleep." That part was correct at least.

"So she called you?" Alex sounded a bit incredulous.

"Well, yesterday I couldn't sleep so I called her," I started to babble, a bit thrown off by Alex standing there in his pajamas.

He squinted. "Is everything okay?" he asked.

I returned to the phone. "Della," I said. "I have to go. I'll talk to you tomorrow, okay?" I hung up and then faced my husband. I'd spent the day having stories read to me and watching grown men and women slide down slides, shimmy across jungle gyms, play hide-and-seek and eat pizza for lunch. Some of them drank milk or juice from a sippy-cup. It was 2:30 in the morning and my husband was looking at me with a mixture of suspicion and concern. If I'd explained my day he'd stick me in a looney bin for sure.

"Well?" He asked. "Is something bothering you? You've been avoiding talking to me since you got home."

"I'm fine, Alex," I replied, trying to give myself some space to maneuver, physically and mentally. "Della was trying to help me sleep, that's all. She, uh, took me to a club so that I could...relax," I started.

Alex's eyes bugged open. "Della took you to a club?" He exclaimed. "You went with Della to a club?" Suddenly, he started to laugh. "Did you watch any of the strippers, or were you so embarrassed you crawled under a table? Oh ha ha ha!" He plunked into a chair. "No, wait!" He suddenly exclaimed. "You probably had to explain what was going on to Della! Did you have go on-stage with a tape measure? Oh my God, I'm going with you next time! I want to explain what's going on to Della! Oh God, what if I get propositioned?" He was howling by now, and wiping tears from his cheeks.

I stood there, suddenly appalled. "It wasn't that kind of club!" I screeched. "We went to, uh..."

Alex suddenly stopped and looked up. "Oh!" He roared, "Another club? Another club? With Della? Pray tell, wife of mine, what club would Della take you to?" He folded his arms and waited.

"Well, it's where everybody goes back to their childhood," I said, too fast.

Alex looked over at me and raised an eyebrow. "The Milk and Cookie Club?" He asked.

"Huh?"

"Or the Baby Makes Three Club?"

"What are you talking about?"

Alex jumped up. "I know!" he suddenly roared. "She took you to Fondest Memories! Did you meet George?" He howled again when I didn't answer him. "She did! She did!" He laughed and started clapping. "Oh my God, you and Della at Fondest Memories! How long did it take you to pick your jaw up off of the ground?"

I had to give him credit: he knew his wife. "A while," I said. "You know about these places?"

"I'm a doctor, for God's sake! Those places are great. You get it out of your system, calm down, find a source of security and comfort. Better than putting a fist through a window or throwing yourself out of one. Did Della take you there because you had trouble sleeping?"

"Yes," I admitted weakly.

"Bless her heart," he replied. "Those clubs cost a fortune. She was looking out for you." He stood up and walked over to where I stood, dumbfounded. Then he hugged me and kissed my head. "Come on to bed, little wife of mine. I'll try not to snore."

I suddenly felt 10 years younger. "Okay," I said. "Can I just call Della back?"

"Sure," he said. "Cripes," he muttered as he walked back to the bedroom, "you two!"

I dialed Della's number again. She picked up immediately. "Maggie?" she said, in a tiny, tiny voice.

"It's okay!" I said. Alex knows about these clubs. He thinks you're a sweetheart, by the way.

"You're not mad?"

"Nope. You gave him the laugh of his life."

"He laughed?"

"He howled."

"Oh, I'm gonna kill that son of a bitch," Della growled. "After all that!"

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