Shit, somebody was the puppet master on this trip.“I’m coming. I’m coming,” his voice came from up the trail.“You can say that again,” sai... a very blonde-sounding voice. A moment later, Doc appeared, wearing only some beach sandals, a seashell necklace and a shit-eating grin. The latter was probably because he had a pint-size blonde under each arm.“So, you done?” Doc asked.“I don’t know whether or not to hug you or hit you in the face,” I said. He sat the blondes down and joined me in a. I have no idea of how much time I've been like that, though it must havebeen quite long, by some standards. Not mine, though. Sharon's back in theroom and she's looking upset."Why aren't you dressed yet?" she says, expressing her anger.I look at her, though I don't have the answer to her question. I don'thave any answers for her. Only questions.But before I can even begin to form one, let alone vocalize it, she cupsmy chin in her arm and tilts my head backwards."Look at me," she says, bending. More

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