"IfIremembercorrectly，it’syourtwenty-firstbirthdaytoday,Laverne，AmIright?"
"Yes，mom，itis.”
"Happybirthday，mydear．I’msosorrythatwearenotabletocelebrateitforyouwithpresents，abirthdaycakeandaparty．Orary，thewholefamilyhasbeenaheavyburdenonyou.”Laverne’seyesfilledwithtearsandshereplied,
"Saynomore,mom．We’reafamily．It’sverystuffyinyourroom．Dad’soutinthebackyard．Wouldyoulikemetopushyoutheretooforsomefreshair?"
"Thatwouldbenice.”LaverlypushedMrs．JohnsoothegardeoMr．Johnson’schair．
Laverne’sslenderfigurecouldbeseelymovingaroundi，preparingdinner．Fromthewindowwhichlookedoutonthebackyard,shecouldseetheoldcouple，bothsmotedownharshlybythesamefate，yetstillfullofloveandpassion．Mr．Johnsonwasfeedinghiswifeslicesofappledippedinmayonnaise，herfavoritesnack．Hewasaverypassionateman,whotookcareofhiswife，the"speakingdeadbody"withoutanypints．Therewasnoexpnationforthatexceptloveandrespeanlife．WheLavernelookedagain，shesawMr．Johnsonhadputawoolenhiswife’shead，wheremedicationhadcausedgreatlossofhair．Mrs．Johnsonhadfallenasleepandyuhetree，caressedbytheeveningbreeze．Shesleptonwithanaive，infant-likesmileonherface．Perhapsshewasthinkingofherfirsthappydayonthisearth,thedayshewasborn．
Freshoutoftheshower，Marksatbythedie，hiswethairlypartedandbed．Hisrotundbodyandchubbycheeksgavehimthelookofadocile,rownboy．HisrgerollingeyesfollowedLaverne’severymovementandhissimplemiobestrugglingwithsomeperplexingproblem．Laverne’sheartwaswiththeoldcoupleinthegarden．Shelovedthemandwaswillingtogivethemherall，althoughshewasnobloodretiohappytakingcareofthem，eventhoughshewasnotamemberofthefamily．Walkingtowardsthedie，shepattedMark’scheeksandsaid，
"WhatareyouthinkingofMarkyboy?"
"I’mthinkingaboutamathematicalproblem.”
"youtellmeaboutit?"
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