"She needs to concentrate on school," he said, "and graduate. She says she's still studying hard, but I know she's lying to me." He paused again. "She...doesn't tell her mother stories about her classes like she used to." I ... I see." I took a sip of my own beer. "And I suppose that change happened when she got back from D.C."He nodded.I grimaced. "I can do that," I said. "Give her room. And I can tell her that I want her to do well in her classes, too." How will that help?"I paused, thinking.. " Others would be wrong. I am a trained observer."She grinned. "You're an accomplished B-S-er. You have a silver tongue and could talk me out of my pants if I didn't have your promise."I didn't say anything but just smiled.I finished making the dressing and put the salad and the dressing in the fridge. I looked at the time, checked the potatoes, and came behind her to massage her shoulders. She purred some more until I stopped to put the steaks on the broiler.When I bought the farm. I improved. More

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