The echo of those kindly words seemed still to ring in her ears. When I heard about Larry I was going 159 to call you, I was, but, well, there is no excuse, is there? I acted like I was afraid of you, afraid that I liked you, so I ignored you like a coward. “Why won’t you sleep in my bed tonight, Lucia, where 80 it’s warm?” He asked her one night, teasing but mournful, as she stood in her bedroom doorway in a long white gown. What else could one say? I left him to suppose—a registry perhaps. Teenage boys never change, she thought to herself. ‘You don’t even know what it means, do you?’ Melusine frowned.
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