[redacted]?” I asked after taking a huge bite of my burger.“Don’t talk with your mouth full,” she corrected. “And none of your business.”�...�Why is it none of my business?” I asked. “Were they all secret boyfriends, like some of the women in the shelter have?”She stared at me.“What do you know about boyfriends?” she asked. She blinked. “Or I should ask how do you know about boyfriends?”“I’m not a nun,” I said. It was an instinctive answer. I didn’t actually think before I spoke. In my defense, I. I had been a scientist then, and only in ROTC so I could pledge Kegs and meet Marilyn again. Life had been so simple. I just wanted to find Marilyn again, and then settle down without any money problems. Instead, I had gotten a doctorate, gone career in the army, become a zillionaire, and written a book. I wasn’t sorry about any of it, but it sure seemed strange at times!One thing did work out about having money - it was easy to get babysitters! Like I had told Marilyn back in 1983, on the. More

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