The sergeant stifled a chuckle.“Beats a handshake any day,” he said.Roxie giggled just a little bit and then turned toward the door. Cal was waiti...g for her. She turned again just before going outside.“Say thanks and goodbye to Rolande and Phillipe for me, will you?”The sergeant nodded.“The car is over this way,” Cal said.Roxie reclined the passenger’s seat as Cal drove south on Route 1. The car passed by a road sign that said ‘Westfield – 5 Miles’. Roxie figured that they had been driving for. I was attracted to her in a way I had not felt since my wife had died 9 months earlier. Her parents had insisted she learn ‘white manners’. She had studied ballet as a youth. This accounted for her fluid movements. Her family had struggled to give her, as the only child, every educational advantage available to a black girl back when being black was difficult. She had risen to the challenge making high academic marks and good impressions with her ‘white mannerisms’ and cultured speech. She had. More

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