"If you'll have us," she added softly. "I was pissed off with you leaving like that but I know I deserved it. I think we've both realised that we will...do better together than apart. I love you, Mark, and I hope that, if you don't now, you will grow to love me as well as lust after me. I think we'll make a good team" I love you too, Kelly," I said softly. "I'm thankful and fortunate that you were stubborn enough to get the others to help you look for me."Five minutes later I was asleep. I was. She was wearing dirty tennis shoes. I immediately identified her as a bona fide character that one found in the City a lot in those days. As she approached, he rose to meet her, a gentleman’s gesture, and it was apparent they were each one half of an ancient union, with the easy familiarity that decades of living together instills. My book of Bukowski rants was reduced to being a simple prop, behind which I hid as I observed this slice of marital life unfold before me. She started talking. At least until last laundry day. Mother and I have worked out a schedule.She has taught me that boys should know how to wash their own clothes, andhow to cook their own meals. So I've been doing my own laundry since Icould first operate the washing machine. I'd been hiding some panties I'dcollected in my bedroom for a while now and I just slipped them into thewashing machine. Mother would never know I wore girl's panties if shedidn't wash my clothes. At least that's what I thought.I pay close. We both were dragged back to the reality that she is my mother in law and I am her son in law and what happen for few seconds was not suppose to have happen at all. I slowly moved away from her face. She turned her back and started to cry. I wanted to ask her not to cry and forget about what happen between us. But my words failed me at this critical time. Lust gave way to guilt. I left her in her room and went to mine. I sat on the chair and I buried my face into my hands with shame and guilt..