He'd be sitting there patiently, reading amagazine or watching television when I got home, waiting up for meno matter what time it was. He'd done it ...efore, for months duringthe Morgan Takeover crisis, when I was coming home unpredictably atall hours night after night. He was always ready to welcome mewith all the affection and love that was in him when I finallyarrived exhausted from those impossible, endlessly argumentativeevening sessions, with never a question to prolong misery. I'd told. “What are you talking about?” I asked nervously. I hadn’t been seriously tickled since I was a teenager, and it didn’t bring up happy memories. My girlfriends tickled me so badly I peed myself. It was so humiliating.“Mom, you shouldn’t have come down. You spoiled my initiation. Ms. Connor isn’t going to be happy with me.”“Don’t worry, Anna. You’ll be fine.” Debbie said, then shouted, “Grab her!”I got up, trying to pull Anna up with me. I had to get us out of there. I had to get upstairs and. More

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