It had been two months since he'd approached me. Maybe I was starting to understand where he was coming from. Maybe his lack of response to all the hi...ts I'd tried to drop had gone unnoticed. Maybe I'd started to feel the way he'd had... rejected. Every time I'd pass by him, a few drops of sweat beaded on my forehead, and I'd swallow hard, ready to talk to him. But every time I tried, I'd lose my gut or something would get in the way. I'd vowed that that night I would talk to him, one way or. ” “Happy to be of service. You don’t have many people who’d um….rub your feet mom?” I asked, hearing my voice tremble. She half opened her eyes and smiled coyly at me. “A few…not all that many though…and none do it this nicely.” “Did Dad ever do this?” She laughed, “Heh! Nah, your dad wasn’t all that interested in things like…foot rubs.” It’s become out routine now, that every night she’ll come home, we’ll eat dinner, sit down on the couch afterwards and she’ll take her shoes and put her feet. More

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