I could tell she was already thinking of ways to get him into our house and into her bed. So a couple of weeks passed and one afternoon I bumped into...Steven in the street. He was now 19 and had grown into a good looking lad. He had the usual teenage cockiness and I smiled to myself imagining what my Clare was going to do to him. We chatted for a while and I invited him round to ours for a few drinks later while the football was on. He said ok and would be there at 7. When Clare returned from. She wept. The therapist brought her a glass of water and said, "Let's take a break and unwind a little." Neither said a word for at least five minutes. Finally Dr. Sigberg calmly said, "I'll see you in two weeks." During the next therapy session, Marge felt stronger, somewhat relieved and more confident. "How have you been sleeping, Marge?" Dr. Sigberg asked. "Well, actually, a little better lately," she said. "I think we had somewhat of a breakthrough last time," he suggested. "What do you. More

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