But, Mary was more. She was sometimes my guide to Uncle Bert’s world, sometimes my advisor and confident. She often watched me, observing, recording...every little detail. Sometimes, I thought she was reading my mind, such as after my dream the other night. Her comments were incisive, cogent. I wondered how much of that was her and how much was the programming.Andy was waiting in bed, propped up on one elbow watching, when Mary and I finished drying each other. My two kittens looked at me. “You don’t have to do this Lorna,” he said, “Let me satisfy you this time.”“It’s okay, I want to,” insisted Lorna, with almost pleading eyes looking through the mask.MorningLorna remembered the first time she had told Chelsea that she thought his younger brother to be rather cute, that she actually found the blend of his general shyness in her presence on the one hand, and his surefooted and almost arrogant attitude whenever lured into discussions relating to politics, sports, history,. More

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