'Where did you even learn to do that?'Michael and I had been seeing each other for a few months, perhaps, and I was getting to be quite impressed with...how things seemed to resist going stale. We desired each other and consumed each other with a wild and imaginative passion, our lovemaking a kind of abstract expressionist canvas of jagged lines, extreme angles and liquid splatters. There on the pure, clean sheets of my bed, my room around us a sanctuary of white and off-white and patches of. There was nothing for me to say. I knew Ann had called Stephanie and told her to stay at her parent's house, but I didn't know she'd planned on bringing Richard home and letting him stay the night. I heard Stephanie clear her throat as if she were waiting for me to comment. What did she want me to say?"Why do you say that? What makes you think he stayed all night?" I asked, wondering if I had left something behind."The sheets on my bed had been changed and my room smelled like ... you know .... If she means a lot to you, Maria, than she means a lot to me."Paul looked at the computer speaker. "You may want to look for some kind of relationship between the US government and the Cubans. We tried to get Maria back to Cuba and that raised a hornet's nest at Homeland Security. I'm really just not sure why this has happened. No one I can talk to has an answer, either."Bai responded, "I heard about that Paul. You don't mind my calling you that?" No, feel free to call me what you wish. My ego. . nothing’s wrong.”“Who is this guy? Did he say something to you?”“Jack! You don’t talk like that to grownups!” said his father.Suzie reached over and pulled her stepson to her side and hugged him. “It’s all right. He just surprised me. This is your Uncle Carl.”That earned me a very confused look. “I don’t have an Uncle Carl.”“This is my brother, Carl, so that makes him your uncle.”“You told us you didn’t have any brothers or sisters.”“I know. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to lie, but ... someday.