We stayed in Galveston for the rest of the school year. My mother and father divorced and I came to live with my grandparents. My grandfather had been...opposed to the sale of the company in the first place but he did what he could to help my folks out. In the end, it didn’t matter. My dad was broken. He couldn’t find another upper-level management job. My mom enjoyed the money more than the companionship, I guess. The sale of Edmonds had left us well-off but not nearly as well-off as she thought. Do you really know what a woman was thinking?" Chelsea asked."Chelsea, every woman who worked at Findley's went through the entire standard process experience up to the point of being terminated. All of us were interviewed and had consulting with respect to end of life matters. We were given our choices of how to die, and we were processed. We had our documents filled out, we had our medical workups done and we were stripped and marched into the slaughter room. All of us really didn't know what. . It was a big difference."Christa gave a cracked smile. "I hadn't noticed."Slowly, with many fits and starts, they walked him through it. He found himself repeating himself, mis-remembering, having to go back and change his mind. The truth was that he'd been in denial this whole time—he'd even taken to sleeping on the couch, because it was easier than going back to that empty bed. Sometimes, passing through to go to the bathroom, he thought he could still smell her—sometimes the smell of her. His Name was Ralph, and he had the appearance of an experienced skier, tanned, ruddy, probably in his early thirties, which made him about ten years older than young and luscious Susan. "You know," she told him, looking at this or that set of ski poles or boots or skies, "I've never gone skiing before, but I sure would like to try it." You look like a girl," said Ralph, "who's tried just about everything else. In the way of sports, I mean." He smiled and picked up an aluminum pole painted in.