"You do give haircuts here, don't you?" Yesss," The syllable draws out on her tongue and lips, wanting to finish "Yes, Sir." Her brain takes over in t...me to stop it. She hasn't seen him in so long, doesn't want to think of him as "Sir" anymore. That was years ago, another lifetime, a different her. She is married now. She has moved on."Great," he says, taking off his overcoat and draping it across one arm. Underneath he is wearing a gray patterned suit jacket. Herringbone. The name of the. Dad sat in his usual chair at the end of the dining table, sipping hot coffee and reading the newspaper. He was already dressed in his suit for work and his briefcase rested on the ground next to him. Mom was in front of the stove, cooking sizzling bacon and making scrambled eggs. She was wearing another one of her skimpy little outfits; I've taken a notice to them in the past few years. Mom was wearing a white low cut top that exposed a lot of cleavage and a pink skirt that was so short that. More

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