“Sir, what is your name?” she asked. “Jeremy Walker,” he replied. “May I ask where you are from Sir?”“Florid..., nice warm sunny Florida.”She had one more question. What would it be? Shethought for a second. She looked around the room andspotted Mr. Patterson flitting with some woman, wholooked to have just walked off the street corner. Hereally had no taste some times. She was sick of therelationship, she was sick of being with a married man,not. Today...no...Mom?”“Two days ago, Beck...no...three...I think,” I wasn’t in any better shape than my daughter but I was older and had more practice.Wait...that’s a lie...I hadn’t been this drunk since...umh...the Custer Shoot...and suddenly I missed David. That set me off. I sobbed. The father of Beck’s sweat-shirted student commiserated, responding with a hug. I soaked his shirt.That resulted in apologies. The apologies led to a suggestion. The suggestion soon led to the idea that maybe sex. More

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