“You’re the Saint!” she whispered sadly. I hung my head and said, “Yes,” somewhat exasperated. Then it dawned on me. “Wait, how do you kno... about the Saint?” My mom cooked me dinner and we stayed up talking all night. It all came out. My mom was also a member of Mercy Warren, recruited because her mom had fought abortion laws in the sixties, and her grandmother, my great grandmother had been a union leader for women building planes during World War II. My great-great-grandmother had even been a. I told her not much but I just liked the beat and also how you dance to reggae.She got up and plugged in her phone to my stereo and played some old school Sean Paul. She asked me to get up and dance with her. She asked me to show her what I got. I walked up behind her and just started to dance. She began teasing me and asked me if this is how I normally dance with the girls at the club. I told her no but this is how I would dance with my cousin. She laughed and told me to be serious and dance. " A few others came around to congratulate us. It felt great, natural to be out with Carol as my partner. I could tell she felt the same. After dinner we walked the old neighborhood one more time, hand in hand. We laughed and pointed out old landmarks, often places where we had enjoyed each other's company. When we came to Carol's old apartment building I pointed to the roof."Remember?" Oh god Jimmy, how could I forget. Running down the fire escape practically naked. So close to being caught.". "I had it made at a little shop called Wings and Tails. They have a machine that will custom make clothes so it's fairly cheap. I had this and this shirt made," I said picking my crumpled shirt from yesterday out of my to wash box and showing it to them."Is that lipstick on your collar there?" asked Alice with a frown, pointing at the shirt."Er ... No," I said, tossing the shirt under my bed, maybe a little too fast.They stood looking at me for a bit, then mum said, "Well then, we better get.