” I said, and laughed at how I made the cat seem important. Actually, I don’t really like that cat. His name is Smokey. My dad brought him home on... day when I was five.“New York? What brings you to Charleston?” He asked with his smooth voice. My stomach fluttered.“Vacation with my family. My older cousins live around here.” He smiled and I looked down at my wet clothing. My red tank top clung to my body. “Maybe I should get going. I’m all wet.” “Yeah, maybe you should.” He helped me up, I was. "Yes?" she asked. I introduce myself, and her attitude became noticeably warmer. "Oh yes, of course. Well, I'm Helen; won't you come in? I was just fixing tea, if you'll have some." I followed her in and took a look around the house. Nice, neatly decorated, nothing particularly striking about it. We wandered toward the back of the house and into the kitchen, where a tea kettle was whistling. She continued, "Aren't you generally at work during the day? I've been here some time and. More

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