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She was saying something the whole time she was kissing Dad that I could not hear. I could tell that Dad could hear it, as he got a rather surprised look on his face.Soon I could hear it as well. She was repeating "Finally! Finally! Finally!"Master Frank looked at me and I nodded with a smile. It looked like we were on our way to success here. He gently pushed Cheryl away and held her at arm's length before dropping his grip on her shoulders. He reached out to tinker with the token dangling from her ribbon choker. "What name do you wish to give this token of a puppy dog?" he asked with an air of haughtiness.Cheryl actually assumed a look similar to that demure expression that Kelly and Adele had seemed to master lately. She said, "I would leave it to my master to name my token." I could see her trying to suppress more laughter. I could not tell if it was due to joy or amusement, but I really did not care right then. She appeared to be getting into the game quickly. Little did she. ‘See, I’d go outside in disguise a lot, but it basically was risky to be me. I lived between home and the clinic much of the time. And for most of the time I was in Portland, being home meant having a stunning, generally very friendly Russian or Ukrainian around pretty constantly.’ ‘How did that work?’ ‘It was sort of an organic process. When we were offering the scholarships to women from the Chernobyl region, they also needed a place to stay while in town. And I had a big place. So they stayed with me. We’d get them tickets so they’d arrive on a Monday, have their appointment with me on the following weekend, and then leave the following Monday.’ ‘Were they expected to do anything in particular in Portland during that week?’ ‘No, nothing. But what most of them did when they weren’t seeing the local sights, was to hang out with me when I was home. Lots of good memories. At the clinic, a standard Tuesday question when I came in was ‘who’s the Russian of the week?” ‘Any.
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