"It's me. Mark. Your son." Mark?" she said, voice wavering. The look of confusion in her eyes almost made me want to weep. Mom was once a good loo...ing woman, back in her youth. Before Dad. Now she looked tired. Not old, not really. Not like she was actually pushing fifty. She'd stopped dying her hair, and it was white now, and she'd gained weight, but she kept out of the sun and her olive colored skin was almost wrinkle free. It was her eyes that always got me, though. Still bright. Back and forth, back and forth until I was writhing on the bed.He pulled back a little and looked at me. "Does that feel better, baby?" he asked gently."A little, Daddy, but now it hurts somewhere else." Show me, sweetie," he said, but without waiting for me, he drew the covers the rest of the way down my body, revealing the downy, red gold curls between my legs, feasting on me with his eyes. "Show me, baby," this time his voice coming out as more of a command."Here, Daddy. Right here," I said,. More

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