That evening, I couldn’t even talk to my mom as she was busy in the kitchen. I was frustrated when I went to bed.The house was fairly empty when my ...unt woke me up the next day. Most of my relatives had already left for the temple early in the morning, and only I, mom and a couple of my aunts were at home. Even they were busy getting ready to leave for the temple.Auty asked me to get ready quickly as we were already late. So I stumbled into the bedroom, where I found my mom adjusting her maroon. She had been one since she was eighteen when, high on beer following a football game, she had allowed five guys to take her cherry. Everyone in town knew she was a slut, everyone but me, that is. I didn't get to find out until after we were married.I was five years older than JoAnne and I'd already left town and was in college when she started building her reputation so there wasn't any way I could have known unless some one would have told me. No one ever did and to this day none of my friends. “Welcome home.” I was aware my voice didn’t sound right and coughed a little, my throat starting to hurt a fair bit now that I was done having fun.“Are you okay?” one of the cops asked. There was a large lump raising on the side of her face where Marlene had hit her or knocked her over hard into something.“I’m Captain America,” I rasped, feeling my throat delicately. “I can do this all day.”“She just went ballistic when she saw you standing there. I’ve never seen anything like it,” her partner. We left our luggage there as our flight home was not until the evening. I introduced Melissa to that Booklover's Temple called Hatchard's. Just as we had left it and were walking up Piccadilly hand in hand, my phone rang. It was Lydia. "Daaad!" she said in that voice that means she wants something. "You're in London, riiight?" I confirmed that. "There is this dress in Dorothy Perkins I want. I have checked that they have it in Oxford Street. Could you get it for me?"Argh, that sounded.