What did you want to talk about?"Carly sits on the bed, bringing her legs up and crossing them Indian-style. "I- I've been thinking." She begins, and ...mmediately I'm scared. Nothing good ever came of thinking. I knew that all too well. Her eyes flick up at me, "Thinking about you. About us." Us?" My voice is soft, and I'm surprised she heard me at all."Sam... I... I'm not gay. At least, I don't think I am. But,"I can't move. I'm paralysed."But... you're my best friend."I can't breathe. I can't. She lay there, letting her thoughts wander. It had been two years since the children left for school and she turned her beautiful five-bedroom Tudor style house into a bed and breakfast inn. She really didn't need the money, but she needed the activity that went with running a successful business. She usually had a full house, and charged $35 a night, single, and $42 double. Right now, she only had one guest, Roger, an architect from Boston. He was overseeing some sort of a long-term project. More

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