”That night, both of us slept fairly well. It was almost 11 the next morning. I called Shruti. “I will be there in half-hour. Do you want me to get anything for lunch?” I asked.“I have prepared everything, Nik. You come here,” Shruti replied.I drove to her house within 30 minutes and pressed the bell to let her know I have arrived. Shruti, in red lipstick, eye shadow, soft waves of hair left open, reached below her shoulders wearing saree with a sleeveless blouse, black bra, and black panties (which I saw later), looked like a queen.When she opened the door, I was dumbstruck. Took a deep breath. When she held my hand, my heart was pounding faster. She dragged me in and hugged me tightly. A few seconds later, I responded to her hug by embracing her tight.The door was still open while we continued our hug. I broke the hug, closed the door, looked at her, and smiled.“How do you like my dressing today?” Shruti asked and continued to say, “I dressed for you, Nik.”“Oh my! Shruti! You know…. In her sixth month the doctor thought it wise to tell Gwen that her joys of motherhood would be doubled before they had fairly begun. She was most. definitely carrying twins. A stranger would have been hard put to calculate the effect this had upon the former Miss Gwendolyn Corby, now Mrs. Donald Robinson.On the twenty-ninth of June, 1958, Reckardsville University Hospital's obstetrics staff went to work, and within a short time the population of southeastern Ohio and, by extension, the world, was larger by two souls. Within some six months the American divorce statistics for that year had received a slight degree of augmentation as well.The marriage had been doomed from the start. Gwen knew before the honeymoon was over that she could not under any circumstances endure living the rest of her life with Don Robinson. Everything which had attracted her to him now loomed larger than life as a debit on his account, and when his parents came to her with a reasonable solution, she was quick.
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