But, when we started getting stuff in French and Italian, I got to handle that, because I know the languages." Where'd you learn them? Not in college?... Ned suggested."No, at home. My folks are both language professors. Mom always speaks Italian to me, and Dad always speaks French. I learned English on the street—it's my third language." I grinned because it really seems funny, even to me."Wow, that's weird. What do they speak to each other?" They speak English to each other. But, when I spoke. I had meant to share it with him, but now … it was a dry oloroso. Good sherry was one of my vices. I poured a healthy glass and, putting a CD by Julie London on, I went to bed early. I listened to her singing, ‘Cry Me a River’ and that’s sure what I felt like doing – crying a river of tears. As I lay there I realized I had put my ghosts to bed forever. Jerry had been hurt, he might have been killed. I felt his pain, but it was his pain, not mine. What hurt me was that when something actually. More

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