“Guess who I’m going out with?” Michelle asked her one day at lunch. The sun was setting in spectacular multicolored streams beyond Whitefield Park. She looked at him confusedly, his black hair glinting under the dim lights. “He wants to settle something on you, I believe. There was a new softness in her eyes, a hesitation, a timidity about her manner which was almost pathetic. I have tried taking a little blood from various donors. “It’s still a marvel to me that we are to be forgiven,” she said, turning. My Mom’s stomach has a lot of bad scars that make it look all ropy and weird.
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