Her arms went around his neck and she kissed him."How'd you get here, Clete?," she said, placing the dish and bottle in the sink. "Hope you don't mind...my drinking a beer. I haven't felt right since..." She dropped her eyes and tried not to cry."O-One now and then won't hurt you," he said with thickened tongue."Are you hungry? Can I get you some lunch... or breakfast?"He stared at the tempting white columns of her teenage legs, their full roundness of thigh, the satin-like, tapering shapeliness. Strange, but wonderful.”“Let me sit down so we can talk.”She slid over and he sat next to her. He pulled her up against him with her head on his chest and her breasts pressing against his side. He wrapped an arm around her shoulder.“I guess congratulations are in order, Mom.”“For what?”“On the occasion of your first orgasm.”Guilt. She stiffened and started to pull away, but he held her tightly against his body.“Mom, be calm. You didn’t do anything wrong.”“Oh, Jake, I’m a terrible mother. I’m so. Their armaments factories are churning out guns, big guns, and the army has been trebled in size. The French have followed suit, but as usual Britain is lagging behind. Europe is a tinder box where a spark will set it off.”Peter took up the story, “If it comes to war it would be on a scale never before imagined, fought with weapons never before used on such a mass scale. They have machine guns that fire 600 rounds a minute and the British Army increases its cavalry size, the idiots. They’ve. Patience stood about 5' 3", was small framed, and was as 'black as the ace of spades'. She was African black not the brown of the typical African American. She had a pretty, oval little face that ended in a shapely chin. She had a pair of prominent cheekbones and a smile that lit up her face. Her hair was short, generally worn clubbed together with a scrunchie in the back. Sometimes it was in cornrows neatly put in by her one of her sisters or by her mother. She had often chosen to wear a wig.