My wife was sitting there, on the edge of the bed; her hair was tied up in one towel, while she was perched on the other, trying to reach places which...only a year before had been in close proximity, now unfamiliarly difficult to reach.She looked at me dolefully, her eyes red from more, I suspected, than simply soap and water.I grabbed another towel and sat behind her to dry her back. As I patted her down, I felt her shaking. She was sobbing.I put my hands on her shoulders and said softly, "Hey,. I respect you more than anyone I've ever worked for and I think you respect me in return." I nodded. I did."Thing is, boss," he began, "I just can't sit and watch--." I held up my hand to stop him."It's not Laura's fault either?" I said quietly. He nodded, watching me closely to see my reaction. I sighed. Carl had brought home to me something I'd seen coming for a while."Yeah, Carl, you're right," I said finally. "I still have a problem--no, more like a question-- why Laura didn't talk to me. More

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