’ ‘At least he’s Jewish,’ my Mother said. Dad gave her a withering look. ‘How is he going to support you in the style you deserve?’ ‘He ...as a very good job.’ Don’t mention the trust fund. He isn’t after my money. And his value is intangible, yet quantifiable. Ugh. That’s how Jeff would say it. I’ll leave that approach to him. ‘What does he do?’ my father asked. His tone and demeanor told his girls he wasn’t backing down an inch. ‘I’m not exactly certain, but I think it’s biochemical. I loaded the last tape. It started with Brenda and me coming into the back room. I appeared to be in a trance at the time."Do you understand what I have told you?" Brenda asked."Yes."Brenda went over and sat on the edge of one of the workbenches."Okay then, Pamela, wake up now." Brenda said.I perked up and seemed to be looking around the room as if I wondered how I got in there.Brenda said, "What are you looking for?" How did I get in here?" I asked."You came in with me," she replied."I did?". I mean parents aren't supposed to react like that ... are they?" I was totally confused."I don't think so either. But if she's not going to pitch a fit, I guess we're okay."It wasn't until later that I remembered her " ... we aren't going to stop" comment and found myself walking around all morning with a dumb grin stuck on my face.By this time we were at school. So now to face another day in edu-hell. As we walked toward our lockers I heard, "Hey, Randahl, you tried getting any from the ice. " And?" Come to the opera with us tomorrow night."A new production of Berlioz' "Les Troyens" had recently opened at the Opéra to huge critical and public acclaim. Alan looked at me and raised an eyebrow. Already hooked, there was no way I could have refused. I said, "I thought all the performances were sold out."Fritz smiled. "It helps to have contacts."So it was agreed.Driving home, we speculated about the possible nature of Sophie's fantasy without coming to any real conclusion. I asked Alan.