Date: Mon, 25 Jun 2001 13:04:06 -0400
From: Michael Raburn <mraburn@bellsouth.net>
Subject: Daniel's Love Chapter 4

THIS WORK IS FULLY PROTECTED BY U.S. COPYRIGHT LAWS.  NO PORTION OF THIS
WORK MAY BE COPIED OR REDISTRIBUTED BY ANY MEANS WITHOUT THE EXPRESS
CONSENT OF ITS AUTHOR.

THIS WORK DEALS WITH A FICTITIONAL RELATIONSHIP BETWEEN TWO MEN.  IF
READING ABOUT HOMOSEXUAL RELATIONSHIPS OR SEXUAL CONTACT BETWEEN TWO MEN IS
EITHER ILLEGAL IN YOUR AREA OR OFFENDS YOU, PLEASE DO NOT READY ANY
FURTHER.

ANY SIMILARITIES TO ANY PERSON LIVING OR DEAD ARE PURELY COINCIDENTAL. THIS
WORK IS ENTIRELY FICTITIONAL.


Guys I really appreciate all the great responses you've sent me after that
the original posting of Daniel's Love.  Because of these letters and the
multitude of requests I am writing the sequel.  Since these characters have
taken on a life of their own, I'm not sure how long this series will
continue but there are several more chapters to follow.  Again, thanks for
the encouragement.



DANIEL'S LOVE

Michael A. Raburn


Chapter 4

"Gentlemen, let me apologize to you.  If we had engaged our brains we would
have arranged to meet you at another location, we could have flown down to
see you in Houston.  It was never our intention..." John Greenley trailed
off.  Marcie had called him from the lobby to meet us downstairs.

Daniel and I had slipped into the restroom to try to calm down.  We spent a
few minutes huddled together, kissing and caressing, splashed some water on
our faces and returned to meet up with Marcie and were introduced to the
president of Greenley Publishing.

"Better now?" she asked.

"Mr. Greenley, it's not your fault.  We're okay now.  I knew where we would
be coming and didn't properly anticipate the fallout." I tried to explain
to them.

"I can see now so much of Daniel's story and why it's so powerful.  Come on
up to my office and let's work out this deal." He escorted us to the
elevator.

Four hours and a leisurely lunch later they had agreed to the terms and
publication schedule.  Marcie and Daniel had agreed to email revisions and
suggestions to each other so we would not have to return to New York until
the release and advertising party.  Mr. Greenley shook our hands and handed
Daniel an impressive advance check as we were leaving.

"Gentlemen it was a pleasure to meet you.  Are you staying in the city
tonight?" he asked.

"No, we've got return tickets.  Our flight leaves at eight." I explained.

"I'll have Marcie accompany you back to the airport."

"No, that's okay.  If you would have your driver meet us in a couple of
hours.  We've got something we need to do."  Daniel looked at me, trying to
figure out what I was talking about.


"Daddy Bear, what do we need to do?" he asked, slipping his hand into mine
as we left the building.

"Daniel, I thought that since we're here already that we should go over to
The Foundation." I answered, pulling him closer.  Looking across the street
I saw the colors of the triptych behind the glass façade.  I wanted to
visit my children and nothing would keep me away.

"Are you sure that's a good idea?"

"We'll never get past it if we don't."


"Can I help you gentlemen?" the receptionist asked as we entered the lobby.

"No, thank you.  We just caught a glimpse of those painting from across the
street and wanted to get a better look." Daniel gestured towards the wall
behind her.

"Sir, please hurry up.  I can't let you just stand around loitering in our
lobby..." she started.

It was like seeing an old friend.  Sort of like that feeling you get when
you return from a long vacation and see your own home, that sense of
everything being right in the world and in your life.  The canvases were
exactly like the last time we were in the building, quietly guarding over
the space.  The images of children playing under the flowered trees, the
swirling patches of color that formed the sky showed me how much my style
had changed.  These could never be recreated; I had changed too much.  When
I was offered the commission for the Garland building I was worried that
too much of the Avery would influence me, that the works would be too
similar.  Now I finally accepted that these paintings would always be a
part of me but the circumstances that followed their dedication distorted
my perspective.  I was no longer the same person.

I was still mesmerized, lost in my thoughts, yet I heard voices getting
louder.

"Gentlemen, you'll have to leave now.  You can't stay here."  She had a
decided edge to her voice.

"Look, lady.  We have every right to be here.  Do you not know who this
is?" Daniel pointed to me.

"Listen bub, I don't give a good goddamned who he is.  Get out!" she
yelled.

"Daniel, I'm done here.  Let's go." I reached to take him by the arm.
Several people were gathering around whispering, trying to see what was
happening.

"No, Paul.  She's not going to throw us out of here.  Come on.  Let's go
see Mr. Avery." He indicated towards the elevators.

"I'm calling the police.  Somebody stop those bastards!  I'll can't wait to
see you two faggots thrown out on your asses."  She screamed, reaching for
the phone.

En masse the group turned at the quiet sound of someone clearing his
throat. The room was suddenly silent, everyone looking at the distinguished
man coming from the conference room.  He turned to his assistant.

"Monica, escort this woman from the building and, how did she phrase it?
'Throw her out on her ass.'  We do not treat guests to The Avery Foundation
like this, especially not these guests." Mr. Avery stepped towards us,
offering his hand.

"Paul, Dan, I'm so sorry for this.  How have you been?  You should have
called me, I would have sent a car." He shook my hand then turned to Daniel
who bypassed the hand and hugged him.

"Thank you, Mr. Avery." He whispered.

"You're quite welcome, young man.  Let's go to my office.  Monica, when you
get done taking out the trash, bring us some coffee."

"Yes sir." She laughed and returned to her task.


We spent the next hour with Mr. Avery and Monica, catching them up on the
developments since the dedication.  He and Cornelia Garland had talked
several times and she had invited him to the opening in Houston in April.
He promised Cornelia that he would be there and was looking forward to a
real Texas barbeque.  They were almost as excited about Daniel's book deal
as he was and wanted to attend that party as well.  Our little group of
friends and supporters was growing.

While Daniel and Monica were discussing the book, I took Mr. Avery aside
and questioned him about how we could help him with the Foundation's goals.
I mentioned that I wanted to make a donation to their fund when we were
paid for the other commission, but felt that there had to be another way
that we could contribute.  Daniel and I agreed that education was the most
important factor in helping children and wanted to do all we could.  We
batted around a few ideas then he turned to the other two.

"Monica, are we still funding that gay teenager group?  You know the one at
The High School of Arts."

"Yes, sir, we are." She responded.

"See if they could use a couple of speakers for maybe, um, January?" he
looked at us.  I nodded my understanding and agreement.  "Paul and Dan want
to get involved and I think it would be a great place to start.  Positive
role models are so important to kids, especially a group that doesn't have
many."

"I'm sure we can work out something.  Do we have your numbers?  I'll call
you when I get some dates worked out." She smiled at us.

"Paul, we'd better go if we're going to get to the airport on time." Daniel
looked down at his watch.


First class was only about half full on our return flight to Houston.
Daniel and I snuggled together, sharing a glass of champagne.  He had his
head on my shoulder and my arm around him.

"Baby, I'm so proud of you.  Today was wonderful, seeing you in your
element, knowing you were finally getting what you wanted."

"Daddy Bear, I'm only here because of you.  Yes, today was pretty
wonderful, except..." He trailed off.  "You know, you didn't even look down
as we were leaving the building.  We were standing where it all happened
and it didn't seem to affect you." He shifted enough to be able to kiss me.

"Oh, it affected me all right, but it also helped me to realize that that
is the past and I can't change it.  We can only go forward from here."

"I'm glad we're going to speak to that group.  I wish there had been
something like that when I was growing up."

"Yeah, me too.  I would have had a much easier time accepting myself if I'd
have known that I wasn't the only one that felt that way.  You know, when
we get back to Atlanta and get settled in I'd like to see about starting
something similar in our neighborhood."

"Paul, that would be great.  You sure you'll have enough time?  You're
pretty busy these days."

"You're right, but I'm thinking about slowing down some.  I'm gonna let you
bring in the money now that you're a big time author." I laughed and kissed
him on the forehead.

"You could, you know.  I'd be happy to support you.  You could sit out by
the pool all day drinking lemonade while I slave away on the word
processor." He laughed.

"I'm only half kidding, baby.  I don't think I'm going to take any more
large commissions.  I'd like to concentrate more on the gallery sales and
not be so tied down to one project for so long."

"Whatever makes you happy.  We won't need the money anyway.  Garland is
enough to keep us in food and supplies for the rest of our lives."

"Yep, we don't have to work.  That's what makes it so good.  We can choose
what we want to do; you know, stuff that matters.  I think I'm going back
to teaching, maybe next fall.  I need to call the college and see what they
think."

"I'm sure they would be happy to have you back."


Cornelia's idea of a little going away dinner at Thanksgiving seemed to be
turning into a full-scale social event of the season.  We had expected a
quiet, intimate dinner with her and her husband, but that idea was quickly
squelched.  We were informed that not only were shorts inappropriate for
dinner but that it was black tie.  Other than that proclamation we were
told nothing else.

Daniel and I had spent the last week crating the completed paintings to be
transported to and stored at the new building.  The works that were
unfinished, the easels and supplies were shipped back to Atlanta.  I would
complete them and have them trucked back before the deadline.  We took the
sketches for the surprise to a local studio to have the sculpture cast in
bronze.  I'm not sure how the conversation came up but Maria, the vegetable
lady, knew a group of sculptors that would appreciate the work.  It turned
out that her son was one of several men that made their living by casting
bells for the mission-style churches in the southwest.  They assured me
that they would have the work completed in time and would arrange with the
contractor to have it installed right before the opening ceremony.  We
negotiated a price and I paid for the work from my budget and not the
Garland's.

We planned to leave the Monday after Thanksgiving.  The house in Ansley was
basically finished.  Amy assured me that everything was complete except the
moving of our stuff from the warehouse and Robb and Mikey had taken that
job upon themselves.  We had been in touch over the last few months several
times to discuss finishes, colors and fabrics.  Without her working for us,
we would never have been able to complete the project on time since we were
out of town.  We needed to find a special way to express our appreciation.

Thanksgiving morning I woke up in my favorite position, wrapped around my
amazing, beautiful lover.  I pulled that incredible long hair back from his
face and nuzzled into his neck.  That fragrance that was so distinctively
Daniel filled my senses.  I was so grateful for everything that he had
brought into my life, his exuberance, his patience, his understand, but
most of all his love.  I thanked the heavens that this man had entered my
life and had healed my heart.  I also thanked the powers that I was able to
be there for him when he needed me.  Apart we only existed, but together we
were unstoppable, complete, whole.

My emotions were on overload that morning.  I was experiencing so many
different feelings at the same time, overwhelming love and joy, total
fulfillment, and an incredible state of arousal.  Even though we had made
love late into the night, my erection again was trying to find a way back
into my lover's body.  Moving slowly to not wake him up too soon, I reached
around for the lube bottle, squirted some onto my fingers and found the
opening.  I gently eased my fingers into him to apply the lubricant then
positioned my erect cock at his hole.  He was still sleeping, but his body
seemed to know what it wanted.  His anus pulsed against my dickhead then
relaxed, allowing me to slide into him.  In one slow push I was totally
inside him, engulfed by that unbelievable heat.  I slowly retracted then
pushed back in.

"Paul, what's wrong?  Why are you crying?" Daniel asked as he reached up to
pull me down onto him.  He reached up to wipe the tears that were streaming
down my face.

"Nothing's wrong, baby.  Everything is so right.  I wasn't even aware I was
crying.  I've been lying here, looking at you, marveling at what we have
together."  I pulled my hips back and then slide into him again,
establishing a slow, lazy rhythm.

"I love you too.  Hmm.  Do that some more, Daddy Bear." He moaned.

Nowhere to go, nothing to do except express our love.  Our lovemaking
varied widely from slow, gentle to more aggressive poundings, but this
morning we were in no hurry.  We caressed, kissed and nibbled anywhere we
wanted and rolled around changing positions.  I would be on top of him, in
control of the movement then he would roll us over onto my back and he
would be riding me.  By unconscious mutual agreement we ended up with me on
my knees and him in his favorite position, sitting in my lap.  Since we got
together this had always been our preferred arrangement, his legs wrapped
around my body and our arms around each other's backs.  He would rub up
against my belly and I would thrust up into him.  After who knows how long
I sensed that Daniel was close to cumming.  He began to shudder in my arms,
becoming more frantic in his kisses.  I took a few more strokes and quickly
joined him in our shared climax.  Daniel eased his legs from around my
waist and pulled me down on top of him.  We cuddled against each other and
were both asleep in no time.


I awoke some time later to a knock and a piece of paper sliding under the
door.  Glancing over at the clock I realized it was already two in the
afternoon.  Daniel woke when I tried to get out of bed without disturbing
him.

"What is it, Paul?"

"Don't know.  Hmm.  Cornelia's instructions for the day." I read the note.

"Good afternoon, my sons.  Happy Thanksgiving.  Have your shower then a
leisurely snack will be ready for you on the patio.  After you eat, finish
packing all your stuff, then get dressed in those monkey suits.  The car
will pick you up out front at six.  Dinner will be waiting.  All my love,
C."

"Wonder what she's up to this time?" I mused.

"Don't know, but you know how she is.  We'd better do as we are told.  God
knows you don't want the wrath of Cornelia on our heads." He laughed.

"You're right about that."


At the appointed time the car met us in the front of the mansion.  We both
were a little sad to be leaving this house and the security and peace it
had offered us for the last few months.  The Garlands would never know
exactly how much it meant to us to have them take us in and care for us.
They would get a little indication at the dedication but even that seemed
inadequate.

The driver gathered the two overnight bags and Daniel's laptop and escorted
us to the rear doors of the limousine.  He never indicated that he knew
what was happening or where we were going when we attempted to get
information from him.  Thirty minutes later we arrived at a small airfield
and were driven to the side of a rather large plane, the Garland corporate
jet.  Where were we going and what was Cornelia planning?

The flight attendant met us when we got out of the car, taking our bags
from the driver.  She escorted us up the stairs, stowed the bags and closed
the door.

"Gentlemen, this way please." She motioned us to seats in the lounge.
"Buckle up please for take off."

Still uncertain about what was happening, we complied with her instructions
as the plane taxied to the runway.  The pilot seemed to be in a hurry to
get us airborne.  I had never been rocketed into air that quickly.
Daniel's fingers were squeezing my hand, hanging on for dear life.

The attendant returned.  "Gentlemen, this way please."

We unbuckled and left the lounge, following her back to the main cabin.

"Surprise!"

Cornelia rushed up to hug and kiss us, dragging her husband by the hand.
Behind her, laughing and waving, stood all the important people in our
lives, Nina, Robb, Mikey and Alan, Amy and Bob the contractor, Mr. and
Mrs. Avery and Monica, Mr. Greenley and Marcie, even Tony and Jack.

"Cornelia, I can't believe you did this for us." Daniel gushed, obviously
excited by the outpouring.

"Nothing's too good for my boys.  Go say 'hey' to everybody."

We were mobbed with hugs, kisses and handshakes.  Tony and Jack were the
last to approach us.  I noticed they were holding hands.

"What's this?" I asked, good-naturedly, pointing at their hands.

"It's kind of a long story." Tony started.  "After Mrs. Garland jumped down
our throats about how we had been acting we ended up in the same group at
Alcoholics Anonymous.  One thing kinda led to another."

"But, I thought you were straight!" Daniel stared at Jack.

"Guys, I'm sorry for how I treated you.  See, I was always a little in love
with you, Dan, and that made me crazy.  I couldn't be gay; my parents would
have killed me.  So I gave you a hard time to prove how macho I was.  Boy
was I ever stupid.  Tony sort of showed me the error of my ways." He leaned
into Tony's shoulder.

"Yes, you were stupid.  But, I guess I'll forgive you, you big lug." Daniel
moved to hug his former roommate.

"Wait a minute.  If you ever do anything like you did before I'm going to
wipe the floor up with you.  Got it?" I jabbed my finger into Jack's chest.

"Yes, sir.  It will never happen again."

"Drinks everybody!  In the grand old southern tradition, we have 'with' and
'without' for those who don't imbibe." Cornelia called us to the bar.  "To
my boys and their success.  May you love each other till the stars fall out
of the sky."

"Here, here." Everyone echoed.

"To Mr. and Mrs. Garland for everything they've done for us and to the rest
of our friends and loved ones." I offered.

"Here, here."

"To the love of my life, my Daddy Bear."

"Here, here."

"When's dinner?" I asked.

"Quit worrying.  We'll feed you in a little while." Cornelia jabbed me in
the ribs with her glass.


The pilot landed the plane in the same manner he used to get airborne.  We
appeared to be cruising quietly then suddenly we were soaring into the
airport.

"Yeah, he gets a little carried away at times." Mr. Garland explained,
laughing.

When we taxied to a stop at Peachtree Dekalb Airport two cars were waiting.
We split the group up and piled into the cars.  Due to the drinks and no
food, Daniel and I were feeling no pain but were not drunk, yet.  None of
our questions about anything had been answered.  Every time we would ask
somebody would change the subject.  I finally gave up trying to learn
anything and got in the spirit of the evening's adventure.

As the car turned the corner off Peachtree Street into the Ansley Park
neighborhood, I realized where we were headed.

"Daniel, we're going home." I hugged him to me, laughing and crying at the
same time.  "We're going home."

The gang cheered when I figured it out.  Everyone must have pitched in to
make this come true.  The car pulled up in front of my, now our, little
cottage.  It was so beautiful, perfect in my eyes.  All the exterior lights
were on, lighting the gleaming paint and new landscaping and a Christmas
tree shone brightly in the front windows.  I was speechless at the vision
before me.  We made our way to the front door only to have it opened by a
waiter.  Daniel and I stood, arms around each other, looking in the door.

"Come on in gentlemen.  Welcome home.  It's all yours." The waiter stepped
back from the door.

Amy and Bob took over the tour, leading us around the newly rebuilt
interior.  Everything that we had discussed was done perfectly.  The
fabrics, the paint colors, everything worked so well together.  In the
studio area, my easels and the unfinished canvases were set up, awaiting my
return under the new skylights.  Daniel's new study was completely ready
for him.  A half wall separated our areas, perfect for our style of working
and being close.  The bedrooms were just as I remembered them, but with new
furniture.  The portrait of Mrs. Scott had been placed above the fireplace
in the newly enlarged den.  Our new kitchen was full of people scurrying
around with trays of food and drinks.  Amy opened the French doors leading
to the patio area.  There glistening under the lights was our new pool.  It
was too cool for a swim, but they had had it filled anyway.

Buffet tables with food were along one side of the new pool house, a bar
along the other.  We would be eating outside tonight, even with the slight
nip in the air.

"This deserves another toast." I said, reaching for a glass. "To Bob and
Amy.  Thank you so much for rebuilding our home."

"Here, here."

"Let's eat.  I'm starved." Daniel said.

Everyone moved towards the buffet except Daniel and me.  I pulled him away
from the group and into my embrace and passionately kissed him.  We finally
broke our embrace when the others started kidding us about starving to
death and not being able to live on love alone.

After dinner we congregated in the den, lounging on the new overstuffed
sofas.  Marcie stood to make sure everyone had a glass as Mr. Greenley
pulled an envelope from his pocket.

"Daniel, we wanted to have it ready in time for your return to Atlanta, but
the printing won't be finished until Marsh.  So we brought you this."  He
unfolded the paper to reveal the dustcover for Daniel's novel.

"To Daniel Scott and 'Magnolia Spring'."

Daniel was overwhelmed.  He took the dustcover and turned to me.  "Paul,
it's actually true.  I'm a writer." He hugged me, tears welling up in his
eyes.

"Yes, baby, it's true." I clung to my boy, so proud of his accomplishments.

He was carefully examining the paper and its soft watercolor rendering of
one large magnolia blossom and leaves.  "Wait a minute.  This is your
style." He leaned back and pointed to the cover.  "When did you do this?"

"During those shopping trips you took with Cornelia.  It was hard keeping
you from seeing the painting before I could get it shipped to them."

"Sneaky.  I didn't know you could keep a secret.  Where's the painting?" he
asked of Marcie.

"Hanging over the bed in your room.  We had it framed then shipped it back
to Amy." Marcie explained.  "I hung it a little while ago so you wouldn't
see it when we came in."

"Come on Daddy Bear.  Marcie, show it to me." He grabbed my hand, pulling
me towards the bedroom.

The gang joined us in our trek to the master bedroom.  There over the bed
in a beautiful gilt frame was the watercolor.

"Paul, you know, I'm sure I could sell that in the gallery." Nina joked.

"Back off, lady, that's mine." Daniel jabbed back, smiling.


The weeks between our return and Christmas were probably the happiest of my
life.  There was nothing pressing that had to be done, no one bothering us
for anything.  Daniel and I spent a few days winding down from the
excitement of being back in Atlanta after three months in Texas, slowly
unpacking and settling into our home.  There were a few pieces of furniture
that we rearranged to better suit our style, but nothing major.  We had a
few things to pick up like more linens, towels and some new dinnerware and
accomplished that with a trip to the outlet mall north of the city.

I called the high school down the street from our house about starting or
sponsoring a gay teenage support group and was directed to the guidance
counselor.  Mrs. Johnson seemed to be genuinely interested in our idea and
wanted to meet us to discuss the plans.  She agreed to meet us at the
studio after classes.

"Mr. Jamison, it's so good to meet you and Mr. Scott.  I've read so much
about you both and I'm so happy that everything seems to have turned out so
well for both of you."

"Please, we don't stand on formalities, I'm Paul and this is Daniel." I
insisted, gesturing to Daniel who was bringing refreshments into the den.

"Then, call me Margaret.  Ooh, these are wonderful!" she said, taking a
cookie.

"Yeah, Daniel's trying to fatten me up with all his great cooking." I
laughed.

Sliding into his spot on the sofa next to me, Daniel reached to pull my arm
around him.  "Margaret, you've got to understand Paul has an incredible
sweet tooth.  Don't you, Daddy." He snuggled in closer.

"How long have you two been together?"

"We met last June.  I was working down the block at the deli and Paul came
in famished from one of his infamous painting sprees.  Sort of love at
first sight, I guess." Daniel explained.

"Now I wonder how I ever lived without him." I added.

Daniel and I explained how we had become interested in forming the group or
adding our support if there was already something similar.  Margaret's eyes
lit up at the mention of Mr. Avery and his foundation.  Although we
probably would receive no direct funding from The Foundation we would be
able to call upon their experience and resources.

"We do have quite a problem with kids being attacked because they're
different." Margaret explained.  "Something like this, especially if we
expanded it to include friends and supporters might make a difference in
the level of violence we experience at school.  Some kids are so afraid to
even walk the halls by themselves, terrified that they will be beaten up
just because they are different."

"I know from my own past that any support would be wonderful.  It's
terrifying to feel you are alone and that no one else feels the way you
do." Daniel added.

"I'm going to ask this question only because I know some other people will.
Do you view this group as some sort of recruitment idea?  You know, to make
more kids gay?"

I felt Daniel's body go rigid at the question.  I pulled him tighter to my
sides, wrapping both arms around him.

"If you think..." he yelled.

"Daniel, baby, calm down.  Margaret, you know the answer to that question
as well as we do.  Nothing we could ever do would make a straight kid gay,
or a gay kid straight for that matter.  We're not recruiting for the
cause." I chuckled.

"Daniel, I'm sorry for insulting you.  You know how some of those people
get with their 'holier than thou' attitudes.  A lot of people, especially
in the south still thump those bibles and misquote scripture to defend
their positions."

"I know.  I grew up with all that junk." Daniel lamented.  "All we want to
do is create a safe place, where for an hour or two a week, kids don't have
to worry about who they are, what they say, or look over their shoulder to
watch out for people wanting to bash their heads in."

We talked for another hour about how to organize the meetings and get the
word out to the student body.  Margaret would handle the arrangements for
space at the school and deal with the administration.  She already knew
several faculty members that would agree to help host and sponsor the
events.  Daniel and I would be responsible for posters and announcements
for the school paper and to find a range of speakers to lead discussion
topics at the first meeting.  We all wanted to get as many of the parents
involved as possible; their support would be crucial.  I agreed to speak at
the next PTA meeting to explain the group and what we hoped to achieve.
With any luck we could clear all the hurdles and get the group together in
February or March.

"Another thing I want you guys to think about.  There are a lot of kids out
there that are thrown out of their homes when their parents find out about
them.  We work with Social Services to place as many of those children as
possible in homes that are gay friendly.  Do you think we could try to work
that into our plans for the group?  You know, maybe keep your ears open for
people who would be willing to be foster parents?"

"Margaret, I'm not sure.  We've never talked about it." I turned to look in
Daniel's eyes.  "Can we get back to you?"

"Of course, take your time.  But, the need is very real and very urgent.
We'd need to get people certified as foster parents but I know the judge
and several of the caseworkers so that shouldn't be much of a problem.
Just lots and lots of paper work."

"Margaret, thank you for your time.  We'll think seriously about it and get
back in touch with you." Daniel and I rose to escort Margaret out to her
car.



TO BE CONTINUED...