"Do you think she's more beautiful than little me?" You jealous too?" Terry grinned."Maybe," Wendy replied, beginning to stroke his knee. "You seemed ...o be paying her a lot of attention tonight." Wendy pouted."Aw shit, Wendy, she's my mother!" Terry shrugged. "Why the hell would I pay that much attention to my own mother?" I certainly don't know, dear boy. But you might notice that your mother is all we have talked about this evening!" Wendy said teasingly. "One would think that you intend to. Oh, well. It made her happy. And her happiness was MY happiness."We got TWO hours," she said, a mischievous grin on her face. "Let's take a shower together!" That's what you really want?"She smiled. "Mmm-hmmm. Me an' you. In the shower. I've thought about that ... a lot." Okay," I said. "But after this, you need to beat your mom home an' run YOUR shower so it'll look like you showered there." I thought about that." She giggled. "We have the same idea!" She got off my lap and tugged my hand.. At the moment of her death, her soul infused itself to one of her most valuable possessions, a tiny black journal that detailed her life's struggles and triumphs. For almost three hundred years her soul remained banished to limbo, its very existence bound only to that tiny tome, awaiting the moment when the seal was broken and her soul could return to this world.Centuries later in the modern world, a curious college student and librarian named Elizabeth Maria Huntley finds Benacia's journal in. Payel-er payer phanke angul dhukiye dilam ar angul diye maagike chudte thaklam … tobe beshi door dhukate parchhilam na karon or porda-ta tokhono royechhe. Or kon-take ebar ghoshte laglam angul diye jore jore. Pyel ebar nijer gud-ta amar haat-er shongge prochondo jore rograte shuru korlo. Amio or kon-take shei taale taalei dol-te thaklam. Sheshe abar Payel-er thigh gulo kapte laglo ar amar haat diye ros gorate laglo. Meyeta ebar jeno jol khoshiyei chharbe! O dui haat diye amay jaapte dhorechhe.