My Agent Is So Totally Honest, Which

But Against Love, The Case Was Solid. Easily Argued. And You Could, Indeed, Hold It In Your Hand.

So It Just Wasn't In My House. Anywhere, I Looked Like I Knew About The Toilet.

I Wasn't Sure What I Expected Her To Do Or Say To This. It Was All New To Me From That Second On. But Clearly, She'd Been There Before. It Was Obvious In The Easy Way She Shrugged Off Her Bag, Letting It Fall With A Thump Onto The Sand, Before Sitting Down Beside Me. She Didn't Pull Me Close For A Big Bonding Hug Or Offer Up Some Saccharine Words Of Comfort, Both Of Which Would Have Sent Me Running For Sure. Instead She Gave Me Nothing But Her Company, Realizing Even Before I Did This That This, In Fact, Was Just What I Needed.

I Think I'm Way Too Much Of A Control Freak To Co-author Anything With Anyone. I Have A Hard Enough Time Writing With Myself! I Admire People That Can Do It, But It's Not For Me.

She Smiled, Pulling The Photo A Little Closer, And I Wondered If I Should Ask Her, Too, The Question For My Project, Get Her Definition. But As She Ran A Finger Slowly Across The Faces, Identifying Each One, It Occurred To Me That Maybe This Was Her Answer. All Those Names, Strung Together Like Beads On A Chain. Coming Together, Splitting Apart, But Still And Always, A Family. (page 289) ~ruby