" He looked at his mother laying face down on the bed, sobbing softly. She lifted her head to face him. Her mascara was running and lipstick was smear...d. Her thicket of hair was a flaming mess. She had come home wearing her tight jeans and his oversized T-shirt."Let's not argue anymore." She said softly. "You don't like what I do. But how could you think was a whore?" I don't, Ma. I was stupid. I saw your clothes and I thought—I dunno. Maybe jail rubbed off on me more then I thought. I thought. The Dad's were always up first. You know the coffee and sports pages routine. The all is well came back from both. Jason did want to know if we wanted a pot of home made chicken soup. They had an over supply.Patti drove us to college in the suburban and I worked on the smart phone on the way. She had decided that with car and insurance payments she would continue to be frugal in her spending and ride with me most of the time.I spent two hours on the phone with Mr. Skaggs from Frost Borough. He. More

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