He smiled and saluted me when he left our house, bound for Fort Hood, Texas. By December he was killed in action.My future step-dad had little interes... in my activities. His name was Anthony. Mom called him Tony. He was a dark haired, virile, handsome man. I disliked him somewhat; he had a deep and relatively loud voice, very different from the softer voices of all the aunts around me, different from the breathy Italian quality of Uncle Johnny and Josephine Louise. By the end of that summer. I used to love it when he did that. Soon enough Steve had drifted off into sleep, his arms wrapped possessively around me and I could feel his chest rising and falling in a deep slumber. I looked at his face, so calm in sleep and found it hard to do what I had to do. I used to love this man so much? Can you deliver this much pain to the person you used to love? You don’t have any choice, that’s what I have learned growing up. You just don’t have any choice. I slipped out of his bed and rubbed. More

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