I love Betsy, just the way you love Martha.
Betsy was shocked, but not me.
Betsy and Martha, now practically best friends, conspired together against the rest of us until they owned most of the board.
Betsy was seated at the table, forking sausage onto her plate and smothering pancakes in maple syrup.
"Maybe he went for an early morning walk," Betsy offered.
Betsy gave me a look.
Betsy was in the kitchen, baking scones for a mid-morning snack, while the rest of us were lounging around the main room vetoing each other's suggestions.
Betsy strolled in, wiping flour from her hands on a dish towel.
I made myself comfortable on the sofa, my arm around Betsy, as we all waited for him to continue.
Betsy nodded her agreement.
Betsy asked, sounding disappointed.
"Thank goodness," Quinn said with a sigh Betsy harbored more interest in the subject than the rest of us.
"Betsy, Hon," I said.
"You have to admit the subject is fascinating," Betsy protested, turning to Howie.
Betsy held on like a dog on a bone.
Betsy was like a Christmas morning kid.
Betsy paid him no attention.
If Betsy and I were forced to share it, we wouldn't get much sleep.
Betsy was in it but I'll spare the details.
Betsy desperately wanted to encourage him further but to her credit, she kept her silence.
Betsy was thrilled to lead the game.
While Betsy was dead serious, it remained a game in everyone else's mind except Howie.
I was left sitting on my hands until the appointed hour of Howie's nap before Betsy assigned me the chore of remaining in the small room while he slept.
As Betsy and I climbed the stairs to the lab room, Howie laughed nervously.
"I'll be right out here," Betsy said, pulling up a chair.
Betsy would have you drummed out of her physic sorority.
There was murmured sound downstairs and Betsy asked from outside the door if there was a problem.
"I guess he didn't have time to fall asleep," Betsy said, her voice dripping with disappointment.
I could tell Betsy felt embarrassed by her enthusiasm.
Betsy said with a glow in her eyes.
Betsy and I agreed and even Martha smiled.
Betsy rose and left the room, returning with a tray full of warm scones and strawberry preserves.
Betsy turned to Howie.
Betsy and I agreed as we were eager to share our news with someone.
Betsy and I met last fall while jogging in Central Park.
Each of us maintains our own apartment, but when Betsy is in town, we spend most nights together.
But picture Ben and Betsy, two city dwellers, neither owning a car.
Betsy Morganthaw, my fiancée, was employed by a public relations firm at a wage half again as much as her future husband.
I filled Betsy in on our hosts as we maneuvered the country roads of New England.
Betsy asked, probably visualizing Abe Lincoln's birth place, with outside toilet and stream-carried water.
Betsy and I were in agreement on having a family.
Jane, our GPS, as Betsy named her, didn't let us down and we found our friend's cabin at the end of a dusty road, hungry for dinner after a six hour drive.