He brought up work again, asking me what I planned to do about the possibility of losing my job. It kind of killed the mood for me, because I honestly...didn’t know what to do. I just sat there in his arms quietly, trying not to think about it, trying not to let tears come to my eyes as I really contemplated what I would try to do to save my job, and what would happen if I couldn’t. ‘Hon, what do you think you’ll do?’ he repeated, thinking I hadn’t heard the question. I started to answer, then. “Lissa, please tell the women at the table that I’m sorry. Mick, I’m sorry.”“Good choices of words.”Emicka walked away and I calmly went back to doing the dishes.“Mick, are you OK?” Lissa asked with a hand on my shoulder.“Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?” I asked quietly.“The way you spoke to her and the way you looked at her. It scared me. I can’t imagine what it did to her.”“It made her more civil, Lissa. No big deal.”“Would you have hit her?” Lissa asked cautiously.I paused for a few moments to. More

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