Pancreatic failure. Chronic.She caught me in the office one day over her lunch hour. “Charlie, got a minute?”“Sure, hon, what’s up?”“I wan... to be at my daughter’s wedding.”“Oh. I see. The doctor thing?”She nodded.“OK. Let’s talk to Princess Pinkie tonight. We’re only a few weeks from graduation. Let’s see how much she loves me. Can you wait that long, or do I need to run us to Vegas this weekend?”“Don’t fuck with me, Charlie. I’m afraid every time I laugh, I lose a week. It’s probably the. Busy, I mean?" I was thinking about washing my hair and doing my nails," she said, her voice full of tease."There's no way for me to know, but like I sensed my general dislike of labor unions, I have a strong feeling that I am adept at washing hair. I do not, however, sense a like ability for the job of a manicurist," I said. "So, it's fifty/fifty proposition at best." Proposition?" she said, the tease still strong in the tones of her voice."Yes. You have some personal chores facing you. I'm. More

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