She almost choked. "Not just neighbours,strangers in the street too. Bloody nerve!" I continued. "It's a bit of a cheek, sir." She offered. "I suppos... that I should be pleased that you're fully clothed." "Well... not too pleased, I hope." "So... the occasion; should they be smart, casual, smart-casual... formal?" "Not formal... god forbid! It's bad enough that you're calling me sir; contrary to popular opinion, I haven't yet been knighted. My name's Peter... my friends call me Peter, but you. I don’t keep secrets from him. Then after he knows I’m sure that you can continue but you cannot call it fucking. You see the term motherfucker is not a nice one. Your father hated being called that by his father.”I asked, “Did Dad fuck his mother?”Mom giggled and said, “Did he? He sure did and he still does. That is why he comes home an hour late on Tuesdays and Thursdays.+++++Well, the next Thursday was another meeting. The same women were there. They were all wearing blouses and pants. Again. I was sure she would finish off her meal but when she had half of theburger eaten and a third of the fries she declared she was full. I askedher several times if she was sure she was full and twice I asked her if Icould get her anything else. She assured me she was quite full and sheneeded nothing else.As we stood in the line for the movie Annie wrapped her arm around mineand rested her head on my shoulder. When we got into the theater sheraised the arm between her seat and mine so she could. I feel her hand on my right leg. I look over at her face and she’s smiling, focused on the road ahead, perfectly content. And I am part of that place she’s in, we are connected again, for better or worse. I understand why she’s here – she’s come back for me. Her hand moves up my thigh and I am instantly wet. I remember what she used to call me. I remember what she used to do to me. I remember how it felt when she loved me. And then I remember how I felt when she stopped. There’s a farm track.