"My, what a lovely blouse," Natalie complimented me, "I bet your lingeriemust be just as spectacular." I make sure of that," Helen said. I blushed aga...n."Could you show me?" Natalie asked, faking bashfulness."I can't show you my panties," I replied awkwardly, blushing again as Iuttered the word 'panties'. I could think of a better one."Of course not," she said, "I couldn't possibly ask you that. Not withHelen around, anyway. Just a little of your camisole." I'm not wearing a camisole," I said. I got high marks, all the way through college. When I left college, against the advisement of my counselors, I wanted to be a writer. I wanted to make mysteries and detective stories. I even wanted my own cool pen-name. People wouldn't see "Katsumi Hojo" on the spines of their favorite books; they'd see some cool moniker, like... well... I'd fantasized about it, but I never got that far.People didn't want to read my books. When I worked on getting published, those old-fashioned folks behind. ”“Correct”“Okay, Last question: Rachel has a scare somewhere on her body, where is it?”“A scare, I’ve never seen a scare anywhere on her body…”“Not looking good, son, that trip is slipping away.”“Wait!” I exclaimed, “I remember now, she covered a scare on her wrist with the rose tattoo.”“Damn, I thought I had you!” Mom exclaimed. “Correct.”“That was good baby, I only told you about it once, the first day we met,” said Rachel.“Okay girls, I’m going to ask you four questions, anyone can answer,. ’ Sallie wanted to laugh at the indignant look on her son’s face. Instead, she screeched when her foot touched the cold floor, bringing fits of laughter from him. ‘Oh, you think touching the cold floor is funny?’ Sliding into her slippers, she ruffled his hair and smiled. She realized how fortunate she was to have him and vowed to push the dark mood away. ‘That’s odd. There should be heat,’ she mumbled, turning the old thermostat from the sixty-six degree setting to a warmer seventy, expecting.
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