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I turned my head just enough to catch the corner of her mouth and held her tightly against me for a few seconds.She stepped away, still holding my arms, and looked me in the eye. "Are you okay?"I nodded. "I am now."She giggled, took my hand and walked us back to the table.Tammy and I danced the next one, and Christine and Charli sat at the table with their heads together. Were they discussing my strange behavior, perhaps, or shared memories of their childhood?Even Tammy could tell I was shaking, and she asked, "What's gotten into you?"I sighed and said, "Charli."I got home just after midnight, and Mom was waiting up for me, dressed in her nightgown, drinking tea."How'd it go?" she asked.I leaned against the door, exhausted from containing my emotions, and said, "I'm in LOVE!"I gave Mom a replay of the evening, complete with my thoughts and doubts.At the end, she asked, "How does she feel about you?" I have no idea," I replied.The next night I called Christine at home and talked to. The first stroke hit with enough force to knock the air from my lungs. By the time the second struck, the pain from the first was just starting to build. And after the third, I quite frankly lost count. Silly for someone so proficient at math.I've tried to count them once or twice. It just can't be done. I stand, naked, in the bathroom with my back to the big mirror and look in a hand mirror back over my shoulder and try to figure it out, but it's impossible. They get all jumbled. The scars, I mean. One ends where another begins. Is that scar from one blow? No, two at least... maybe three. They're at slightly different angles. And that one's too deep to be connected with that one... unless two blows fell in exactly the same place. Thirty, at least. Fifty? Perhaps. Oh, God, the pain was terrible.I suddenly couldn't breath, and sputtering, realized that Daddy had thrown a glass of water in my face. Had I passed out? Where had the water come from? I looked over my left arm to watch him..
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