Rhonda and I were high school sweethearts and dated (on and off) for three years. We’d started talking to each other in the hall at school because I’d lost an assignment and asked her if she had it. But we kept talking. And talking. We met for lunch and talked. We met at football games and sat together. And talked.At homecoming that fall, I asked her to go to the dance with me. We were both just old enough to date at school events and nothing more. We talked until the music got so loud we couldn’t hear anymore, and then we got up and danced until we were sweaty and exhausted.The dance ended and I walked Rhonda home. It was after 11:00 and we had midnight curfews, so we weren’t talking much as we walked through the Ballard neighborhood where we lived.Then it happened.The backs of our hands touched as we walked along. Once. Twice. The third time they seemed to stick together and we walked with just the backs of our hands touching for nearly two blocks.And we didn’t say a word.I’m not. He will remember Bridey Murphy." Alas, Bridey, I'm afraid Woodrow Allen met his death over a year ago."Her face expressed the shock at the news, and she crossed herself. "He was a good man, so he was. I shall say a prayer for his soul." She had tears in her eyes, and I wondered how close romantically Woody had been to Bridey when he was surreptitiously obtaining information from her, regarding her employers, the Christmas he and I spent in Marlow with Becky and Zinnia.It was just as well that Isaac and I had repaired the rift between us at Zinnia's dinner party, for only a week later I received a letter from my Uncle Caleb informing me of the death of my father. I went to Isaac's chambers in Eagle Street to inform him – going to Tavistock Place would put me in the sights of Minnie and I wondered how long I would be able to beat off a determined assault from her."I have an important case in a week's time and doubt I can spare the time to attend the funeral," he saw the anger flame in.
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