They had a main course andtalked about their respective jobs, his sons, their lives. They were still learning to connect face to face. Theconversation...was easy. She felt attracted to him."Ça n’a pas été Madame ?" Si si, c’était très bon. C’est juste que je n’ai pas faim ce soir."Martin’s plate wasn’t empty either."I can’t eat more tonight," he said. "It’s a very late dinner for me."They hadn’t rushed. They had been very social, conversing in a very mastered, friendly tone. They hadturned down. Charlene tightened her arms about her mother's heaving back, holding her tightly to herself, unable not to be aware of the liquid pressure of her mother's firm, strong breasts against her own taut tits. She could smell liquor on her mother's breath and knew that Liz was more than half potted.After a few minutes, the racking sobs quieted some. Charlene patted her mother's tousled hair gently, soothing. "It's all right, Mom," she said. "Who made him the expert all of a sudden, any --" But it's. More

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