It was a gracious gesture, she thought, as he trudged to the Beck’s humble doorstep in his stiff blue polyester uniform. “Who took care of you after she died?” “My father. She was the type that people of every age gravitated to, naturally affable and kind to everyone. Her sensitive ears could hear her foster mother snoring in front of the television. ‘Comment? What do you say?’ Gerald looked down into her face, and found himself touched by the uncertainty he saw there.
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