A lot of girls aren't going to like you, notfor a while. And some not ever. You _do_ know that girls can be a_lot_ meaner than guys, right?"Tom paus...ed to consider her words, then shrugged. "I guess I've learnedto take whatever life dishes out. If they don't like me, there's not alot I can do about it."Katie's eyes widened at his philosophy. She wasn't sure how long he'dbe able to live by that credo. "How about your religion?"Tom sighed. "Is this the inquisition?"Katie laughed. "No, but. Visiting here for almost three years now," Ellis continued. "I don't live here; I come whenever they call me." Why?" Because of my mother," she said, looking away."My mother is a widow in her early sixties. Three years ago she fainted while we were shopping at the mall. I took her to the hospital. They needed a week to find out what her problem was. Then they told us it was a very rare neural syndrome that you could healthily live with for a long time. But you'd need regular shots of medicine,. I reach out to stroke your face but pause, my fingers an inch from your lips as they part and I feel your warm, moist exhalation as you sigh in your sleep. I trace the outline of your cheek and chin, my fingertips remaining a scant inch from your flesh. I move downward, tracing the graceful line of your throat, not touching, until my fingers hover over your breast. I move my fingertips across my thumb as if rolling your nipple between in the gentle pinch that never fails to draw moans of. "Martha and I wanted a son, so we could turn this place over to him when we passed on. We were blessed with Karen, but then Martha couldn't have any more children. It bothered us for a while, but about a month before she died, Martha told me we should be proud to turn this place over to Karen and you. She was right." Thank you, Claude. You couldn't have paid me a better compliment. I loved Martha, you know." I know that, Son. She told me she had a nice long talk with you right after we found.