Whichever, I hated it. We talked alot, though. Every time I tried to bring up our immediate past, though,she'd go off on some painting she was workin... on, or a band Darla wantedher to see. I felt miserable. Those longings were still there, only myphysical equipment would or could scarcely acknowledge them. AlthoughEmily sometimes called me her "cute little lesbian."My social life was pretty much over. Emily still went out with herfriends, but I had to stay home. Not that I could've gotten. It was a constant reminder of the man and her vow to never let him down.It would be more fitting if we were in Jacob’s white truck – the truck I drove that day and every Christmas thereafter in memory of my benefactor and his granddaughter, but Tomás owns it now. He takes good care of it and I still see it almost every day, doing its chores around the farm. But since the events of last Christmas – events? How’s that for a euphemism for murder and attempted kidnapping? – we are a lot more. More

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