I gagged on them and had to spit them out. I couldn't eat them. I couldn't stomach the taste not after losing my wife who made them for me all of thos... years. I couldn't eat them at all."Are you ok Paul? Are they bad?"It was my sister-in-law who made the potatoes. "No, they're fine. I just can't eat them. Too many memories hit me too quickly. Sorry."I got up from the table and went to the pool. Brenda was in the pool with my nieces and nephews and the little ones playing. I took a seat and. Oh.”“Hmmm?”“What have you been reading?”“Told you.”“You, dearest Georgia, have a dirty mind.”“Well, you knew that.”“Yeah, but now I have proof. Hell, I can go to the media.”“And tell them what?”“George is a pervert. She reads porn in the bath.”“Erotica.”“Whatever.”“And tries, largely unsuccessfully, to masturbate.”“What?”“Well, I needed two hands, see, and I needed one for the tablet.”“You amaze me.”“What, my lack of dexterity?”“No, your big mouth.”“You love my mouth.”“I do.”“Read. What’s the. They had already left for the party. The party was just a few houses down the street, so Ashley and I walked the short distance together, laughing, giggling, with an occasional grope of the ass or squeeze of a breast. We entered the house holding hands, not so much as lovers, but more as we didn't want to lose the other. We greeted the host and headed for the kitchen, where icy, fruity drinks were being made. We said our hellos to all the ladies in the kitchen and with Ashley's hand in mine we. My eyes were closed and my breathing was even; all signs pointed toward my being asleep. He ran a finger across my face, anyway, his breath warm against my cheek. “I missed you, too, Kellie.” He whispered. “More than I could ever explain. I'm so glad you're here.” With those words, we were both taken by sleep. His hand still on my skin.In the morning, I was awakened by the sound of a door opening. Only the tip of my head was exposed from under the covers. The door closed again. My guess was.