’ ‘That was all?’ ‘It’s all I remember.’ Cindy yawned again and rolled back away from me, but I wasn’t done yet. I put my hand on her sh...ulder and shook her gently. ‘So what did John do with you? I mean besides talk?’ ‘It’s not regular talk. More like therapy and some role-playing.’ ‘Role-playing? Like on the internet?’ ‘No jerkoff! Role-playing like I’m me and want to go to the beach for ice-cream and he’s Roger and he wants to stay in and watch the game. We did that one like 10 times. Once we. Preparing thepicnic basket was one of those rituals. It was a stereotypical picnicbasket, with a blue gingham liner and large bow on the handle. It camealong with a matching quilt that my governess had me sew. Rather thanthe normal lunch fare I was usually directed to make, as this was alolita outing, I had prepared three bento boxes. Each one was made ofbamboo and had been meticulously packed with Japanese delicacies that Ihad learned to prepare. For bento, presentation is as important as. More

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