Veronica’s voice was weak, almost not there, fractured by painful cracks and memories. Her finger reached up and stopped at a name etched in the smo...th marble face. What was the meaning of this her son wondered? The endless mass of black marble and meaningless names seemed to stretch forever. What did this have to do with his mother? “This Robert is your real father.” Her son’s breathing stopped. Robert felt his heart jarred. The middle-aged man’s face turned grey and he looked at his mother in. "Beer?" I said quickly."God, yes!" she blurted.I moved around to the refrigerator and pulled out a pair of bottles, glad for the distraction, and made somewhat of a production of opening them and passing one to her. We drank together, tilting the bottles up and taking large, gurgling pulls. The beer was suddenly wonderful: bitter, cold and refreshing. I hadn't realized how thirsty I was. Cindy seemed to feel the same, taking another quick gulp before sliding off the table and moving to gather. My mum never had anything that looked like this. I walked from one endof the closet to the other, looking at the colors, feeling the texturesand generally mesmerized by the dazzling display. I picked out somesequined dresses and tops, short skirts and took down the hangers offthe rack."You have good taste, Max. Would you like me to model these for you?"Lady Bee was smiling now seeing me with an armful of clothes. " Or...maybe we should have a little private game of our own... what do youthink,. She stood there alone. Julie Morris was nervous, shy and scared. This wasn't a situation she was used to but it was one of her own making, and she wanted to make recompense, needed to do so because Saturday at the Robertsons had driven it home like nothing else. Life was much more fun if you did indeed treat other people the way you'd like to be treated yourself.For several seconds she couldn't speak. And then slowly she started at the same time as the tears did. "As principal Robinson said,".