His wail still filled her ears. His tearsstill dampened the carpet. The nightlamp still fell in slow motion. Theimage of her young son, her pride, her...treasure, still dominated theroom: her blue dress, her pantyhose, her jewelry, her lipstick,her...everything! On him, a thirteen-year-old boy. On his face, shame ---and fear.She wavered, briefly, before she walked into his bedroom. The argumentsin this room had been heated and strenuous. Each had always risen to thechallenge of the other, each. Because tohear Grace tell it, he hadn't been as surprised as one might haveexpected to learn the truth about her past.They went out on a couple of dates. These dates were casual, friendlyoutings to dinner and the movies and such. They flirted, they kissed, butit was all kept light, almost superficial. Marcia steered well clear ofthe moment of truth, when all things would have to be explained--or madeplain of their own accord. She realized that she was skating on thin ice.But she talked herself. More

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