. well... I was in Thad's room," Angela said in a matter-of-fact manner."What are you doing up at this hour? Is something wrong with Thad?" Mike asked..."Oh, no, darling... not really," Angela muttered."Not really? Uh, what does that mean, darling?" Mike asked, a puzzled look on his face."Oh, nothing... nothing really..." Angela stammered. "I thought I heard a noise in Thad's room, that's all." You seem upset, Angela. Are you sure there's nothing wrong? Maybe I'd better check the house for. She wasn't amused. He loved to make jokes about her tiny walnut sized bladder and how she always woke him up three or four times every night when she got up to use the toilet at home. This time it wasn't very funny. She really, really needed to go ... now!Upon reflection, she had prepared herself today for the long road trip back home rather poorly. They had been visiting her younger sister and her husband over the weekend, who lived in a large city about four hours drive away from their own.. We’d go to the movies together or have lunch. He was mad cool, I noticed. We had a lot in common. Both of us came from prominent black families. My father, John Dolce is a State Representative in Houston, Texas. My mother Joan Harrington Dolce is a Texas Ranger. Jacob’s father was the Athletic Director of the University of Atlanta Tech in his native Georgia. His mother was dead from cancer. He didn’t like to talk about her much. I respected his privacy. I’m not big on stirring up unpleasant. Despite the fact that it was a pleasant Spring evening Betty had lit a coal fire. At least it served to take the evening chill off the room. Lesley served the tea from a side table as they settled down. Lesley sat in her Uncles well worn armchair, while Sandy and Mark sat opposite watching her intently.Their eyes expressed a mixture of anxiety and interest as they waited for Lesley to start speaking." I want to tell you about myself and who I really am, because I value your friendship greatly..