Irene heard him out in the room, heard him come into the bath room.  She could feel him staring at her.  Good, she mused.  He was wondering about things.<br/><br/>"I hear you, Sam.  I'm evaluating what you say, rolling it over in my brain, and thinking about it.  I've been on my own, making my own way for five years.  Perhaps this isn't the ideal life, not the one I set out to have.  But, I've become very, very independent.  I was independent even when I agreed to marry Tim, by mail.  He liked when I was willing to dirty my hands to help in the field, but he thought I needed to do that and then go home and cook supper while he sat about in a hot tub and I washed his back.  So, excuse me for a moment as I ponder that and you being used to being the boss; the man in charge," she said with a smile.  opening her eyes, she looked at Sam, shifting in the tub to rest her chin on the rolled edge, forearms on the edge as she held herself up.  "I can deal with it, all of it.  But, you're going to have to deal with it, too.  I'm not your average wife, you know.  I can carry seventeen glasses on a tray and serve every one without a spilled drop.  You don't get to like my fire and then try to douse it later on."<br/><br/>She heaved another sigh.  "So, you ready to accept your fate?" she asked, carefully watching the man.