"Guess you really did," she whispered."I really did."Now tears appeared in Trina's eyes. But she blinked them away. "I didn't mean to call you that. G...ess it's like calling me a nigger."By now Laura had regained control. "No," she sniffed. "Not nearly as bad." You don't look like one."Laura smiled wanly. "I guess I should take that as a compliment." Usually I think of them riding motorcycles and stuff. Not beautiful, like models. But they do say Whitney Houston is one. Don't know whether to. He would go on ahead to Delhi to start the job, leaving Mom behind to deal with movers and clean up the house. Of course, I stayed behind with Mom. Mom hated long drives. Driving made her nervous and tense, and tired her quickly, so she decided to split the trip into three segments of about 300km each.That was okay with me, because I hated long drives, too. At that age, there was nothing in the world more boring than just sitting, hour after dreary hour, in a moving automobile. It was August,. More

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