By that time, the subject had drifted to her unstated _needs_."You know, Bob, I have tried very hard to be a good wife and mother, but it's hard. You ...now? It's really hard. I miss him. I hate being alone at night and I miss having someone to wake up next to in the morning."Bob felt emboldened. "And admit it Cathy, you miss what happens in between, too."When she didn't respond Bob offered, "You will probably want to freshen up a bit before dinner. My room is just down the hall a bit. We can go. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t. Those of us battling anti-minority and White-driven Gentrification fight tooth and nail. Sometimes we win, sometimes we lose. The moment many Blacks, Asians and Latinos move into town, the Whites get angry and terrified. They almost inevitably move. We can coexist. They don’t want to. They’re the ones who are racist, not us. A Black person can adapt and even do well in a majority White environment if he or she is smart, prepared, and given a fair. “Can I do something I’ve wanted to do a long time?” she asked.“Sure,” I said, happy that I didn’t have to talk.That’s when she leaned over and kissed me on the lips.You know those supercars that can go from zero to sixty miles per hour in 2.3 seconds? I never thought about that much, probably because I’ll never be able to afford one and nobody’s going to just let me try that for fun. And where could you drive one like that anyway?But think about it. Close your eyes, seeing the world as it is,. How could I have made her cry? "What's wrong, darling?," I asked softly, sitting up to hold her. "Tell me."She just looked at me, tears falling, and asked, "You really don't know, Katie?"Somehow, I did know, but I didn't ever let it surface. We'd been friends so long, so close, but I now, well, I did know why her feelings were tearing her apart.I wiped a tear from her cheek. "I think I just really realized it now, tonight. Talk to me, Holly." I love you," she said, and with those words opened.