We didn’t know (and couldn’t trust) her friends. There would be boys. There would be booze. It was fucking Vegas.Her mantra was, “Trust her, Bob... You have to let go eventually. Call this a trial run.”Riley, for her part, once she had parental permission in hand, put her arms around my neck and kissed me.“Thank you, Daddy,” she breathed into my face.“Thank your mother. She’s the one who’s letting you go.”“I’ll be good,” she said. “I promise. I just want to have fun with my friends.”“How can you. Devine, really. It gave me time to sort out my thoughts...I'm a little nervous if you can't tell," said Jessica. "Call me, Mary, please. We aren't in Sunday school anymore and there's really nothing to be nervous about. I've been looking forward to catching up with you," said Mary. "It's been so long since I've seen you last. You certainly have a more mature look about you."Jessica blushed as she replied, "Well thank you, Mrs--er, Mary." That's it, darling. Now, please make yourself. More

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