Slowly, quietly, he crept back through the kitchen and pushed open the door to the living room. It creaked. "Ssshhh!" he hushed as he slipped through....On his way past the counters he had picked up a spatula, which he now raised threateningly above his head.A few steps into the room, though, he lowered it. Mrs. Keaton was lying flat on the couch, one bare leg fallen out of her robe and down to the floor. Next to her, on the coffee table, was a half-empty jug of orange juice; some architectural. That enough for you?" Jade..." he called out as she started to push him away and get up."What? What is it now? You want to know my Social Security number? What the fuck does any of this shit have to do with us? I don't ask you all this inane bullshit. You better say what you need to say right fucking now, or I'm gone."With her standing and towering above him, he felt almost scared and he could see why she had such an overwhelming presence with her friends. He tried to stand up and she pushed. More

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