" I can't remember when was the last time I had home-baked Christmas cookies," Reid said. "I know it wasn't at my house."Reid slipped off a threadbare...bathrobe he had brought and slid into Monica's bed. He seemed to sink into it. Monica approached him wearing a long-sleeved, satin poet's shirt. It had lace cuffs and collar, an embroidered bodice and a row of mother-of-pearl buttons that extended from the neckline to her navel. She lay beside him. He coaxed her against himself."So, what do you. ’ ‘That’s what causes growth in the relationship,’ she added when she saw him raise his eyebrows questioningly. ‘Well, that is to say, the resolving of the conflicts.’ ‘I never thought of it that way,’ he replied. ‘Didn’t the conflicts in your marriage enrich your relationship?’ she asked. ‘Perhaps,’ he replied slowly. ‘Although after she got religion, there certainly wasn’t any growing together. There was little ‘together’ at all after that. Sex became for procreation only.’ ‘What about. More

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