“Yes, Deirdre, it’s my breast milk. Raymond can tell you what it does even if you can’t feel it already.”“I can feel it, Brigit,” Deirdre ...aid slowly.“Good. I thought you had lost your voice. That’s not like you, is it Deirdre?”Deirdre laughed.“No. I’m not usually quiet.”“Especially not when making love…” Brigit teased.“How did you?” Deirdre asked.“Goddesses don’t explain. It spoils the mystique. But it did shut you up, didn’t it?”“Yes. I enjoyed that.”“I thought you would. Raymond enjoyed it. Then I focused back on my book. It was a romance novel, a real page-turner. It was all about a girl living in suburban America – a life so very different from living on a farm. In this current chapter she was at a wedding reception and she’d had her very first kiss with a handsome young guy. It was all very romantic.I dived back into her story as her friend grabbed her and turned her around so she couldn’t see the painting. The story felt so real, the words simply jumped off the page and. More

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