And his dark hair was lightly flecked with gray. Except for his temples, which were more than lightly flecked. He looked powerful and confident. Yet, ... thought, weary as well. I wondered what everyone else looked like. Especially my mother. "Can I offer you a drink?" Jack asked, swirling his glass. "Please," I said. Iva snapped her fingers then handed me a glass, saying, "You've been gone a long time. We missed you. So much." Her voice was flat, almost wooden. I ignored her tone and sipped my. Theopportunity to do so presented itself on our first night together afterI returned home, or so I had thought.Dinner was at Carolyn's and she had called for a 50's teenage themednight. I had figured it would be a good time to reassert more manlythoughts by coming as some kind of teen delinquent. Some research, andwatching old 50's era movies, gave me the idea of including the elementof a biker. A neighbor friend had an old motorcycle that would fit inwith the look and would probably loan it. More

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