"He is, but he really isn't a relative in the sense you think of a father daughter kind of thing. There was no way he could pressure me or anything, s... in that sense he was just an older man." She paused a long moment with her eyes still on the road, then continued. "He was the oldest and the one who cared the least about how I felt about it all," she informed me."Yeah," I said. I figured that explained it all. Grandpa Charlie was just Grandpa Charlie. He was kind of like that 'You knowed I was. ‘Wow!’ I said. ‘You look great.’ ‘Thank you,’ she said, taking my hand. Over coffee we talked, telling each of our life’s stories. Ingrid was 25, I discovered, just three years younger than me. She had been in a couple of stage shows, but this was her first major part. I really enjoyed her company. The cup of coffee turned into a second, and then a third. After the third cup arrived, I reached across the table and took her hand. She squeezed my hand in response, giving me another of her. More

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