We sat in the kitchen and talked. Soon her daughter came in smiling with her wet hair. A few minutes later my son came in…wet hair. Lynn whispered: ...“Look as his wet hair Julie!….do you think they took a shower together???”) Her daughter had to go somewhere and my son walked her to her car. He leaned his elbows on her window sill, as they talked, and we watched. He looked around and gave her a long hot kiss. We giggled and wondered what was going to become of this. We talked quietly. “Julie, if. Glastonbury, this is my stepdaughter, Kennedy." Good afternoon, Miss," the man said, holding out his hand for Kennedy to shake.She'd shaken it -- and had been surprised at how firm his grip was. Most people didn't shake eight-year-old girl's hands, and most didn't squeeze. He did. Not hard enough to hurt, but enough to prove that he was a lot stronger than she was."It's just Kennedy," she'd told him. "I'm not a Miss."Mr. Glastonbury had smiled at her. "It is either Miss or Ms. I'm not very fond. More

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