Patty told me once she may have given birth to me but she didn’t consider herself to be my mother. Consequently, on the very rare occasions when my ...other would come to visit my grandmother; she’d just say “Hi.” to me. That was extent of our interactions until I reached sixteen and started to mature. That’s when Patty seemed to notice me and she started paying attention to me.But it wasn‘t the kind of attention a mother pays to her teenage son. It was more like a big sister fooling around with. The prof showed up right at the dot of 7:30."Good evening, class," he started. "Do you all have manuscripts for the class to critique."I set my story on the table in front of me, as did all the others."Who wants to subject their masterpiece to the ravages of their classmates first?"Lynn spoke up, "I can go first if no one else minds."Everyone, including me, heaved a sigh of relief. Lynn handed out copies of her story to the rest of us and we spent the first hour of class finding typos, poor. He patted the seat next to him ‘Why don’t you keep me company?’ He had a lopsided grin on his face, snorting at some distant memory of his, one he had been reminiscing about before Rosalie had shown up ‘Sure sugar,’ Rosalie grinned at him, ‘Let me just get us some more drinks’. She walked over to the bar and ordered two whiskeys and an orange juice, while doing so a man sidled up to her, his greasy hair and rank unwashed body odour caused bile to rise in Rosalie’s mouth, her heightened senses. That was another thing. She was rarely “ravenous”. She ate because it kept her body fueled. But on this trip she craved food. True, most of what she’d eaten was home-cooked, but even the hamburger she’d eaten with Bobby had been delicious in a thoroughly decadent way.She was halfway through her plate when Bobby sauntered into the kitchen. He was barefoot. His jeans were faded and soft looking, and he had on a shirt just like the one Mirriam had loaned to her when she first arrived. That lock of.
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