After what felt like several minutes of going mute, her tongue decided it could work. Just above a whisper she leaned forward and said, ‘You can let...go of my jigs now.’ Her fingers lightly grazing his hand as each word fell from her lips. His brow furrowed, as if he’d heard her wrong. ‘Your what?’ Smiling she confessed. ‘My jigs, the handles that you’re hanging onto above my hips.’ The man barked out a laugh, ‘Are you serious? Why do you call it that?’ ‘Please, as if men don’t have names for. The girls had a close bond, and if anyone could influence her, her best friend was the one. I wondered if they’d being arguing. I put my briefcase down beside the couch and sat down. She looked at me, sighed slowly, and then started to speak. “I had a long talk with Amanda this afternoon,” she started. “Did she upset you?” I asked, about to place my hand on her knee to console her. “It’s not about Amanda,” Said Lucy, brushing my hand away, “It’s about you.” “What do you mean?” I asked,. More

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