She dried her hair, then pulled on a pair of bermudas and a "Save the Whales" T-shirt a couple of sizes too large, and set off for the restaurant. She...wondered a little if that would be a little underdressed for the restaurant, but realized that at a traveler's motel in this part of the country, it wouldn't really matter a whole lot.The restaurant was nearly empty; a sign at the entrance said, "Please seat yourself." She did, over near the window, not for any good reason, since there wasn't a. ”“Viewers and listeners, fasten your seatbelts because I’m sure we’re in for a climactic end to another CHL season.”Mark describes the play once again, “Both teams are beginning the third period with their tops lines. Referee Bob Cormier raises his arm and drops the puck. Belleville’s Joel Cross and Spokane’s Captain Chris Bruton battle for possession of the puck.”“Cross wins the draw, shuffling the puck back to Mueller. Mueller passes it cross-ice to Subban as Bowman body checks him. Subban. Sometimes, when you least expect it, fate smiles on you. She smiled on me as I crossed that street. She smiled in the form of a pickup truck loaded with rowdy, half drunk Mexican laborers who pulled in and parked right next to Mitchs big LTD Wagon. They all got out and headed for the liquor store, all except the driver, who looked like he might have been all of twelve. I got into the car, and the Mexican kid was right there next to me, sitting behind the wheel of the old Chevy truck and looking. He told me as we were lying there. His head was lying on my breast, one arm thrown across me, one knee over my hips. We were drowsing in the afterglow, that time when you don't feel like moving, when its enough to hold him and remember how he filled you, how well you fit together, how you held him as he came and how you made it the best for him you could and it felt so good for you too, stretching, open, feeling his stroke fill you, knowing he was urgent and close. You cradle his head, let him.