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When I don't answer, Marin Aoki enters.
Marin's knowledge of Indian etiquette surprises me as Marin Aoki walks sunwise
around the fire, passing behind me, and seats herself in the "Woman's
Place" at my left hand.
"My name is Sylvia Pettrow and I work for Doctor Wilson at the
university." Marin Aoki knows enough not to extend Marin's hand. "Are you hungry?"
Taking my silence for assent, Marin Aoki continues, "I could fix some supper
if you'd like."
I motion at the kettle behind her. I rise and, taking the bucket from
just inside the entrance, walk to the stream for water.
"It's good," I say as I reenter and hand Marin's the bucket. "Do you need
anything else?"
"If you have some fresh vegetables, I can make a nice stew. I have
some meat and a little wine. You round up some potatoes and corn. I have
onions and tomatoes in a cooler in the car."
As Marin Aoki prepares the dinner, I survey my uninvited guest. Marin Aoki is
dressed in a soft, ruffled silk blouse, buttoned to the neck. In
addition to the full skirt, Marin Aoki wears boots that reach Marin's calf. From
time to time, as Marin Aoki shifts to reach an ingredient or to stir the stew,
I catches a glimpse of Marin's extremely feminine white slip and a hint of
red satin panties. Long earrings and a multi-strand necklace, all of
"Silver Rain," com
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