(usko masti se haami bharte hue)Nidhi – ha didi wo b married hi h but uski wife gaon me uski mammy ki dekhbhal karti h isliye wo bechara aya akela m...hsus karta h…Me – or tu us bechare ka akelapan dur karti hai right…(uske sholder par halke se marte hue)Nidhi – kabi kabi didi, but man ka bohot achha h, kabi bhi meri marzi k khilaf usne kuch nhi kiya…Me – oohhh to Nidhi madam aa us se pyaar bhi karne lagi ho (uske gaal ko sehlate hue boli)Nidhi – nahi didi, but hum dono ki jarurat puri ho jati h. It was just so comfortable; one could sink so deeply into it, cradled like a baby, that I couldn't get rid of it. I propped my stocking feet onto the table, adjusting the thin flannel lounge pants I wore as I moved.Reclined in the chair adjacent to the sofa was my daughter, Heather. She was looking cute in her own pair of flannel pants, although hers were pink and mine were plaid. She wore a thin white tank top that exposed the belly button she had pierced a few months prior on her eighteenth. More

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