"Are you really quitting now?"She smiled, repeating a mantra I would learn would be an underlying theme of the 12 days, "All good things come to those...who wait."I went to pull up my pants, but she grabbed my hand. "No, no, no, I want it open and ready, baby."I looked at her perplexed, "What has gotten into you?" Not you," she joked, "plus this is just the beginning, baby."The next forty-five minutes were excruciating, as we chatted about life, Christmas plans and agreed on a formal New Year's. The few lines on her face spoke of habitual smiles, but it was her eyes that captured me. They too were surrounded by smile lines, but when she wasn't talking to anyone, they held a haunted, faraway look.Everything she wore, the cap, the crisp white man cut shirt, the skintight jeans, and even the pristine white canvas deck shoes, carried some famous designer's tasteful logo. Her medium length brown hair was caught neatly into a pony tail that was stylishly fed through the hole in the back of. More

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