"Oh, hi Emmajean. What's brings you around on this nice sunny day?"

"I . . . My sister Cheryl said I could ask you stuff, and you wouldn't get mad at me, or make up stuff that wasn't true."

"Well, that's awfully sweet of Cheryl, I'm honored that she would say such nice things. I certainly would never hold anything you might ask about against you, or criticize you in any way. So, come on in, and tell me what it is you want to know about." I motioned to a chair.

"Well," she said, making herself comfortable, "I don't quite know how to begin." "Well, the beginning is certainly a good place to start. However, maybe you need a minute or two to get your thoughts together. Why don't you sit down in that chair and think about what you want to ask me while I go to the kitchen and bring you back something to drink? Do you like cokes?"

"Sure, a coke would be wonderful. Thanks Mr. Billings."

"Mr. Billings is what people used to call my father. But it makes me feel old when someone calls me that. You wouldn't want me to feel old, now would you?" She shook her head. "Then how about calling me Jim?"

"Okay, mister Jim."

"No mister please, that sounds a little too Uncle Tomish for my tastes. Just Jim. I know you're not used to calling grownups by their first name. Kids never are. But I promise I won't tell anybody, and it will make me very happy if you'll call me Jim."

"Sure, I guess so . . . uh, Jim." ......(cont)