His grasp was warm and dry, with just enough pressure to reassure me that he liked me and welcomed me into his room.He waited for me to seat myself ...efore resuming his position behind his paper-cluttered desk. "It's good to see you, Mike" he said. His baritone voice was like music to my ears. I could listen to him all day! "Thank you, sir" I breathed. For some reason I felt as if he might know and approve of my dressing today. Why I felt that escaped me. Not that there was anything. Cancelling newspaper delivery for the holidays. Getting the car tuned up and the oil changed before driving back home. Sending out “Seasons Greetings” cards to family and friends – and even to my parents, in an act of moderate defiance. Merry Christmas would have been too strong for my father, but Seasons Greetings was relatively neutral. It could simply mean hello for the winter. Shoshana and I had not even exchanged last names, let alone cell phone numbers. The intervening days were passed in. More

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