The longer I looked, the more uneasy I felt. I finally said, “Talk to me, JoAnne.” So she did. She choked down a couple of hefty swigs of whiskey ...nd told me of how when she was sixteen, her mother had died and her mother was the Councilor’s sister. JoAnne had grown up with a single parent, never having known her father and so her unmarried uncle petitioned for guardianship and had taken her into his home. “Was he good to you?” I asked. JoAnne shrugged. “I guess it depends what you mean by. .. uh... lotion... right," I stammered. She was all but laughing at me knowing the hopeless position she'd put me in. I think you could have knocked me over with a feather at that point and my mind raced to catch up to the moment. This was the kind of situation young boys dream about. But it was not a situation I ever expected to be a part of. After Christine died, I was not in the habit of sitting and thinking about other women. But I was sure thinking about one now, a point to which the. More

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