While I poured two big snifters of brandy, Steve settled cross-legged in front the fire, a blanket wrapped around his shoulders. I sat in a low chair ... foot or two away from him. We were quiet for a few minutes, sipping the brandy, each thinking his private thoughts. It was a pleasant, comfortable silence, and when he finally broke it he did so very quietly. “So except for that time on the boat, you never touched a guy before today?” he asked. “Nope,” I said. “What about you?” “Actually, I. Your Grandma Daisy always seemed to know what was going on anywhere in the family before anybody ever got around to telling her. I swear, there were times when she knew exactly what I and my brothers were thinking before we did. It was spooky, how she did that."Carol and I looked at each other. I guess I'd heard tales of Grandma Daisy's uncannily keen perception as I was growing up, but I didn't remember any of it until Mom brought it up. I guess I'd just filed it away as one of those family. More

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