“Yes, of course I do,” you respond with a smile, notknowing what Iwant to do, but sure that it will be enjoyable. “Come with me.R...1; I take you by the hand and guide youto somethingsoft. As you climb on it, it feels like the bed. “Kneeldown,” I tell you, “andput your elbows against your knees.” You do so. Then you feel something going around theback of yourknees, the front of your elbows, tying them together. “What are you doing?” you. Then my cell phone rang.Hoping it was good news from the hospital, I quickly answered it. I couldn't conceal my disappointment when I realized it was Liz's father, Frank Miller, and not the hospital. Frank and I had never been close. He felt his only daughter should have married better. I had spent twenty years building my landscaping business into a very profitable operation, but I wasn't a professional. Frank was an accountant and he had made a killing in the stock market over the years. By. More

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