I suppose I thought she would just drop me off. I didn't think that she would want to meet the Whitleys, too. I mean, even though she was leaving me with strangers, she hardly needed to verify that I would be in good keeping. Although when I thought about it that way, it seemed very motherly of her.I don't know if Lucinda Whitley was expecting to meet Mom or not, but she didn't seem surprised to see both of us when she opened the door. After a brief introduction, she showed us into a modest but immaculate living room that looked like it was ready for an appearance in a magazine. Even the magazines on the coffee table seemed to have been selected and arranged to match the colors of the room. I wondered if Mom and Mrs. Whitley had the same decorator.We were just sitting down when George came in. He looked happy to see me. Judging by the thorough up and down look he gave me, my choice of outfit met with his approval. I wanted to give him a big hug for that, but I wanted to see what Mom. Once the pain had stabilized she held her breath a little longer to try to avoid sobbing. The silence at the open area vendor-machine café had spread beyond its boundaries as more shoppers noticed the silence from that area, or noticed other shoppers staring in that direction. Majgen didn’t manage to get her sobs under control, sooner than she had to breathe. Her gasps for breath, through sobs, was clearly audible in the silence. Baglian returned to his drink. Appearing to ignore both his student and the growing amount of onlookers. When Majgen had enough air to cease gasping, he spoke again: ‘Do you need medical attention, Student?’ ‘No, Femaron Baglian,’ Majgen replied, she was still sobbing. ‘Then stop whining and go buy yourself something to drink. We won’t stop for drinks until I get thirsty again.’ Baglian guessed that like most first time personal students, Majgen didn’t know the finer details of a student/mentor lifestyle. Majgen didn’t move. Baglian was puzzled at her.
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