The doctor had said that amnesiavictims needed time to adapt. Ron loved his wife so much that he wantednothing more than to enfold her in his arms and...protect her from anyandall harm. Instead, he stood back to give her the breathing room that thedoctor had recommended. After an hour of stilted conversation, Ron leftto pick up Melissa at school.Renee sat on the edge of the hospital bed and took Joe's hand into herown as she said, "Mel, if you feel that you aren't ready to go home withRon. How many, and how many are able to talk?"Bobby said, "Six and two."Howard looked at me and asked, "How many did you do?" Two, maybe three."He looked at Bobby and she said "Two, probably three."He nodded and said, "You know from your school work that if you have an exceptional high kill ratio they're going to retire you. They don't go by military or Marine rules. They think it's unhealthy to be that accurate or that you could be involved in that many incidents." Can't be helped. If I'm canned, I. I am going to remain chaste until marriage." So... as long as it isn't sexual, you will do whatever I order?"She nodded.It was a crazy thing to say, but I said "Kneel before me".And she quickly dropped down to her knees, looking up at me with no look of discomfort on her face. Of course, telling a girl to kneel was hardly non-sexual. We stared at each other, and I just said "you have proved your point." And she went home.Until next time. The next time she was over, she again cleaned and. “Well, whatever it’s called, we’re supposed to take these baked beans and this pasta salad to the cookout this evening.” She pointed to a large Pyrex dish, and a sealed Tupperware container on the counter. “Would you be helpful and take those out to the car for me? Make sure they don’t spill.” Heather reluctantly took up the pan of baked beans in both hands. It was still warm and she could smell the vague aroma of brown sugar and—and—well, whatever else it was that her mom put in baked.