"Nice, don't you think?" I guess." Claudette cautiously glanced around. "Why so remote? We could have talked at my house..." Too public," Ted grunted,...shaking his head. "Parents, servants -- I'm not like you; I don't have people waiting on me hand and foot all of the time. While you might be able to ignore them, they would keep me from being able to hold up my end of the conversation. This is better." I see." Claudette entertained Ted's line of reasoning, which appeared on the face of it to be. To say that she was scared would have been the grossest of understatements. She was petrified, and freely admitted that she was."Karen," an empathetic Jean Miller softly intoned as her husband turned off the main drag and started up the hill to the hospital. "You know, dear, you don't have anything to prove. That's to say that if you find that you can't handle the pain, you can always ask them to give you something. Believe me. No one will think any less of you if you do." I know, Mom. And, I. More

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