When we reached the wine aisle, my mom reached out to snag the cheap boxes of wine she drank. I snatched it out of her hand and put it back. “Nope.�...�“But...” She blinked at me, her eyes trembling.I shook my head. “No more wine for you for a while.”“Yes, Sir,” she swallowed, her hands trembling. She opened her mouth, wanting to say something else, but I fixed her with a stern gaze. She had spent enough time drinking wine since dad died.“You're cooking dinners again, too,” I said. “No more saying. "I'm sure you can satisfy her requests easily. I will just go out back with my list. Your pop and I will chew the fat while you take care of Frolic."She nodded to him and listened as I quickly explained what my project was. She nodded and motioned for me to follow her down the various aisles of hardware. Squatting down she reached into a bin, pulled several clamps out, and held them out to me. As I started to accept them, I could not help but notice her legs spread wide and there was a lovely. More

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