I am at the office alone on Saturdays. This would be a great place to talk with no interruption.”“That will be great. How about noon or so. I will...stop and get lunch if that’s ok.”“Good, I will see you about noon.”I stopped and picked up lunch, then headed to Beth’s office which was about twenty minutes away. On the drive I was trying to think of what to say and how to say it. I arrived and was glad to see only Beth’s car in the parking lot. I still had a key to the building since Susan had. Officially you don’t even know what is going on up there,” she said.“No way, that’s the kind of shit that gets you dead,” I said. “I would have no control of the operation. If some sloppy farm worker, or manager gave in to the temptation to steal a little and got caught. He would do some serious federal time. That is unless they gave up someone bigger ... Oh yeah the owner of the farm.I have been in jail. Do you know the worst thing about even the best of them?” I asked.“No women?” she asked.“A. ”Ed said, “It’s stupid to hate someone because he’s a cowboy.”The little guy piped up, “It’s stupid to hate someone because he’s gay.”“It’s not the same thing. I can’t help that I was born with brown hair.”The little guy said, “I can’t help that I was born liking men.”Ed stood there for a minute and said, “Does that mean that because I wasn’t born a cowboy that’s it okay to hate me?”There was silence as the ridiculousness of the argument was realized by one of the participants. He looked at Ed. Instead, I steered her towards the buffet. She wasn't hungry, but did accept a tall glass of the milky-looking orange punch. She sipped, then took a much bigger drink."This is good!"I did laugh at the pleased surprise in her voice, and got a glass for myself. I had to agree with her - it was good: creamy, mildly orange flavored, and slightly fizzy. I sipped mine slowly, then laughed again when I saw that she had finished her first glass and was asking for a refill."Ready to go home, Shelly?".