Dad acted. He pushed his chair back, rose calmly to his feet and nonchalantly walked toward the angry man.The man kept coming, moving toward... My wif..., my cheating, lying slut of a wife, the man thought.I watched in horror as Dad stepped in front of the deranged man. He has a gun, Dad! He wants to kill! My silent warning went unnoticed.Dad's mouth moved. I couldn't hear his words, but I could read his thoughts. He wanted to talk the man out of killing, somehow dampen his anger enough for the. " Now, Ashley -" Was I unclear? Is English a foreign language?" No need to be rude. I'm not the one who cheated." Now who's being rude?"He didn't answer."I'll let you know what I plan to do."I walked out the doorWhat did I want? What did I know?I had an accusation from Sabrina the reliability of which was backed up by her telling my father and supposedly trying to figure out what to do.She seemed to be telling the truth. I had not seen any indications of deception in her behavior or her body. Nothing to do. Golden morning sun lit the bedroom. I could feel it warming the bedcovers over me.Scent filled the air, light and delicate, floral; Cassie's perfume still lingering from last night. I held her. She was curled up like a child, asleep, her breathing only detectable by the movement of her back. I was spooning her, my knees curled up, my groin nestled against her firm bottom. With one arm under her neck and the other over her waist she felt small and intensely female in my arms. She. The room she never wanted anyone to enter. The carpet was soft, the lighting dim. I almost didn't see Mom standing by the window looking out at the lawn. She twitched when I put my hand on her shoulder."Oh, Peter," she said, turning to me with a smile. "I didn't hear you. You gave me quite a fright." No, Mom, not Peter," I said. Peter was my Dad's name. "It's me. Mark. Your son." Mark?" she said, voice wavering. The look of confusion in her eyes almost made me want to weep. Mom was once a good.