Who was I fooling?But lots of other people do. At least thirty replies, all thinking I was writing about them. All being dead wrong.And then there was...Elaine. She didn’t think I was writing for her. She just liked what I wrote, and she said so.I wrote back and thanked her, and that was the beginning of a good dozen or so email exchanges. Which then led to exchanging cellphone numbers with a view just to chatting. Nothing more contemplated. Nothing more desired.A week after the chats began, I. Hubby then instructs me that I am to mount my horse and ride down to the river. He knows how much my horse enjoys wading out into the river and we have done it many times before even occasionally as I was now like Lady Godiva. I put my bare foot into the cold metal stirrup, grabbed the saddle horn, threw my other leg over the seat and slide my other foot into the other cold stirrup. I was ready to ride now. Hubby was rubbing my bare ass and telling me how nice I looked in the saddle. He wanted. ” “Okay!” I said throwing my hands up in a feeble attempt at surrender. Our server, Stephen returned with Diane’s drinks and we ordered several appetizers and side dishes to complete our meal, rather than order entrees from the menu. Diane wanted a wine with her dinner so she ordered a bottle of Pinot Gris to accent her Italian Grillo. Dinner was served and we enjoyed a lighthearted conversation about our upcoming time off. Diane had finished her drink and started on the wine as she ate. Her. The investigator drove them to the hospital, going over what he knew so far.This is what he told them:The subject/patient was a ten year old girl named Leslie Solomon. She was the orphaned daughter of a wealthy couple from White Plains. Her Jewish father had been an executive at PepsiCo, her mother was black and worked at IBM’s world headquarters. The parents had been counter culture peaceniks and civil rights activists. Jake noticed the investigator’s look of disdain as he said that. The.
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