“That was certainly fun,” Cindy said as they sat in a restaurant after scratching more than seventy-five physician cars. Her fingers were sore from the effort. “So many cars, so little time,” she said whimsically, smiling like Lewis Carrol’s Cheshire cat.
“Indeed it was quite fun,” Robert said. “My dad would be proud. So would my mom.”
“Mine wouldn’t be proud of me, because she doesn’t understand that Obama Care is going to happen to her in her worst time of need. But she’s dead wrong, you know. She will be abandoned like all the others.”
“Yes, she will. And you will be so mentally hurt when that inevitable moment of corporatist greed occurs.”
“Absolutely,” Cindy said. “And I will be very upset. I might even do what your dad did.”
“I’d hate to see that happen, Cindy. You know how much I love you,” Robert Adams said. He reached over and squeezed her hand. It felt warm and lovely to hold. “You know I care a great deal for you.”
“Yes. I suppose that’s pretty clear by now. The feeling is mutual.”
Her words were definitely love songs in Robert’s ears. He loved Cindy a great deal, just as he had said. His heart was warm with feelings for her and had been for a long time.