He was big, like huge. Not fat, but muscular. He was black. He looked much like a boxing legend or something. He was also very tall, at least 6′ 4�..., but I could only guess from my position on the bed. The Michael Clark Duncan-look alike didn’t say anything, and didn’t move to touch me, his face showed no emotion. Strangely, I found that a little comforting, I did my best to emulate him. I didn’t ask any of the dozens of questions pinging around my head, I didn’t start to cry, and I didn’t try. "He's right, Cath," Blair said, smiling gamely at her friend, "I'm not nuts about him. It doesn't work like that. I just like him. Maybe even just for tonight." We can go right on seeing each other, Cathy," Harold said, his voice the essence of calm composure, "if we both want to. After Blair leaves I mean." But tonight?" Cathy said, swallowing hard."Well," Harold began, completely in control of himself, "tonight I'd like to be with both of you, if you don't mind." Wow!" Cathy said, shaking her. More

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