"Are you mad?"He frowned, a father again. "That depends. Since when do you drink wine?"Her shaking eased, but was supplemented by an embarrassed squir...."You're not supposed to drink. You're 13," he reminded her disapprovingly."You won't tell Mom?" she pleaded.He shook his head. "Tell me about this."She squirmed uncomfortably again. "It's not like I'm a drunk," she said, almost petulantly.Michael had to laugh. "I'm not accusing you of being a drunk, sweetheart." I've only done it a couple of. ...........................................................The day in Lisbon was if nothing else slow, after breakfast Mom and Avrilwent for a walk, I declined and went back to my room, where I spent mostof the day except for the odd sneaked cigarette on the balcony.Later I changed into fresh shorts and a shirt with long sleeves to hidemy hairless arms. By early evening it was time to leave and soon we wereback in the airport awaiting our flight back to Glasgow.We had dinner in the airport and. .. and to thank you again for everything you did." He blinked down at me, obviously trying to read whatever signals I was sending. I wasn't entirely sure what kinds of signals I was TRYING to send. Suddenly, I felt like crying, but I held myself back, and took a shaky breath, instead; then I smile up at him."You realize that you had me captive here ... in your personal castle. I was a damsel in distress, naked ... wrapped in a bath towel, without anywhere to go. And you saved me. You're my. . well, let’s take a look at it! Shall we?” she said as she continued staring right at my crotch. “Oh my God. The Walll! Let’s take a look at the wall.” she continued as she turned a bright red now.“Yes. Let’s do that.” I replied.We walked side by side down the long hallway chatting and sipping our coffee. We turned down another hallway. This place was much larger than it looked like from the front. Karen started telling me about her frustrations about how she felt like Mark wasn’t taking care.