There was no telling her to do her homework; she'd have it done. Tiffany was very sober, responsible, and competent for a nine-year-old, and somehow, ...ike wondered how they'd come up with raising such a child. Henry was more like you expected for a six-year-old, a typical pain in the butt, but Tiffany could keep him under control when Mike and Kirsten couldn't."What's the homework today?" Mike asked."Multiplying three-digit numbers," Tiffany replied, and then frowned, "It's HARD, Daddy."Mike. And that she hadn't found out about her mother.But he had gone on, vowing to make it up to her, to never stray again. Understandably, she'd been distant. Even before her surgery, they hadn't -- well. Could it really have been two years?But there he was: married for twenty-five years, wife recuperating, and suddenly he turns into Casanova! Steve felt like a cad.Could Paula know what he'd done? Was that why she was so suddenly, uncharacteristically amorous?Or had she at last forgiven his past. ”“Yeah. Well, takes one to know one.”I’ve had enough of this c***dish banter so I pull his top up over his head. He’s standing there with no top on in the bus shelter and he doesn’t look too pleased.“Give me my top back.”“Take your trainers off.”“Fuck off.”He’s not going to co-operate so I take ‘em off for him. He doesn’t put up a fight and I manage to get his trackies and boxers off no problem. He wants me to do this to him, the horny fucker, course he does. He’d have smacked me by now if he. And look like a fastball, but the ball moves down and in to a right hand batter.”The pitcher tried it.STRIKE“What else ya got?” said the smiling pitcher.The coach called in another pitcher and I took the kid off and taught him the Run fastball, the Cut, the Slider, the Curve, the Knuckleball, the Slurve, a Change-up and the Split finger. I couldn’t throw the pitches but I could show him how to hold the ball to get the expected result.“It’s simple aerodynamics. The air moves across the surface.
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