. really need a shower!”“ ... Or two!” I contributed.Sharon took my hand and smiled up at me. “ ... Or more!” she remarked.“Oh, God, yes,�...� Teresa answered. I wasn’t sure if she was reacting to how ripe Sharon and I smelled or whether she was just responding to Sharon’s question.“SIMON!” she yelled back to the group that’d been marching along behind her across the lobby. “PUT SHARON KINCAID ... I MEAN ... PUT MR. KINCAID’S DAUGHTER AND HER HUSBAND IN THE PENTHOUSE ... NOW!”“Simon” must have been. And I was embarrassed, and not in a good way. Toasts, formalism, all of it meant nothing to me, never had. And, all the while my wife, Rozelle Carter, held me back from retreating from the room. Boy did I want to retreat. The celebration had no allure for me, not yet, maybe not ever.Then it was time for a speech, so I was informed by the crowd of them. I say from the crowd of them because everyone kept chanting “speech-speech-speech!” Rozelle nudged me. I took a deep breath. I looked over at. More

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