Once again I was being pledged to confidence and I didn't like it. As I dallied over coffee and pondered a response, Thatcher Wright came up to our table carrying a large bag in his hand.

He inquired about our accommodations and before I could answer, Karen blurted out that our rooms . . . plural . . . were fine. Changing the subject, she told him she'd spoken to her father and learned Timmy was better. He smiled his approval and handed the bag to me, looking embarrassed.

"I picked up a few things for you, just enough to get by. I hope the size is correct. I'll take you out for more as soon as the shops open."

I thanked him and took the bag but didn't open it. "I'll be fine on my own." While the thought of being chauffeured around all day made me uncomfortable, I felt sorry for Thatcher who didn't seem to know what to do with this person who'd been placed in his care.

"There's not much nearby, Madam," he said.

"You could get her a car," Karen offered.

"I don't want to put you to any trouble," I said.

"Get the Porsche!" Karen said, with a touch of excitement in her voice.

I smiled. "If it's one of those little speedsters, I think not."

"Perhaps something more sedate," Thatcher offered. "I'll bring a vehicle around in a half hour if that's all right." He turned to Karen. "Will you be going home or to the hospital?"

She looked at me before answering. "Neither. My father wants me to spend time with Mrs. Blanding . . . Sarah." She added, "If she wants me to. She doesn't know her way around."

"I'd love to have you with me, Karen."

After Thatcher left, we returned to the room. Karen was silent and I sensed she was worried what I might say about her misleading statement to Thatcher, implying we hadn't shared one room, and the out and out lie her father asked her to keep me company. Instead, I let her stew and opened the bag Thatcher brought to me. It contained two dresses, each appropriate for a cocktail party, one too small and one too large, three pairs of panties, each in a different size and type, from bikini to old-lady floppy and three bras also of different size and variety. I burst out laughing, while Karen, though clearly embarrassed, couldn't hold back her amusement as I held up the items one by one.

"Men!" I said. "They really don't have a clue. I hope he kept the receipt."

While I wanted to question Karen on her story telling it wouldn't be long before Thatcher returned and I didn't want an interruption. There would be time enough when we were in the car together. I flipped on the television while we waited. "Anything you want to watch?" I asked.




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