Lyn, now wearing a silk kimono, came into the room and sat on the edge of the bed.“Tony, I….”“I don’t want to know!”“Just let me…….�...�“No!”“Is everything OK?” the new male voice spoke.“It’s OK, John. Leave it to me. Please.”“But…..”“I’ll call you later. Please, John. Just go.”John moved and placed a gentle hand on Lyn’s shoulder, gave it a re-assuring squeeze, turned and left.Once again there was silence for a while. Tony, his mind in a whirl, an arm across his eyes as if he didn’t want to. Irene was in fact sitting at the table pouring through several of her personal cook and recipe books. "Morning Irene," I said cordially pouring myself a coffee."Good morning Mr. Somers," she said formally just as she always did. It was almost a running joke between us. Once she had gotten the first Mr. in, it was David, or sometimes even Davy, or whatever else colorful name she had for me at the time. I liked her for that. But for whatever reason, she had always insisted on starting out the day. More

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