This kind of thing could turn a worried guy into a juice head, he decided, but voted against a beer on top of hotcakes with syrup. He compared the two...-his mother tall and willowy, but with flared hips and long, eye-catching legs, Jean small and cute, put together like a miniature Venus. Mom's hair was black as night, and Jean's was flaming red. They seemed to be getting to know each other, laughing and whispering things he couldn't hear. As he fidgeted just beyond the door, his fear fading in. Neither had graduated High School and now worked crappy jobs just to pay for their smokes and beer. Raising her was just another chore that they neglected as much as possible. Why couldnt I just have been lucky like Becky? She just had a Mom but she seemed so nice. Or Mrs. Font? I wish I could have the life those two little babies or hers and Mr. Font are going to have. No screaming. No endless days forgetting the last time they were sober. Try as I can I just cant imagine them that way. It. " Just so you won't be shocked, then, if you open the fridge there's a few bottles of beer that I bought three weeks ago. One six-pack lasts me weeks. There's wine, too, in the pantry. Mostly for cooking." You're not a drinker?" She looked almost hopeful when she asked."I will have a beer or two at a social event. May have wine with a special meal. But I don't stop at the store on the way home and get a twelve-pack for the evening." Oh. That's good, if that's the way you are. " She was standing. She was the prettiest mother he had ever seen. She wasn't like the rest of the mother's he knew. She was a major babe with a kick ass body. She looked like she loved sex. She had a sweet voice and knew how to wiggle the fine ass she had.Jason’s eyes were locked on Mrs. Smith. She heard her phone ringing and ran into the house. That’s when Jason took his cue and followed her inside. He was going to tell her how hot she was.Mrs. Smith was talking on the phone and she was crying. Jason.