‘Oh, Peter,’ she said, turning to me with a smile. ‘I didn’t hear you. You gave me quite a firght.’ ‘No, Mom, not Peter,’ I said. Peter ...as 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 looking woman, back in her youth. Before Dad. Now she looked tired. Not old, not really. Not like she was actually pushing fifty. She’d stopped dying her hair, and it was white now, and she’d gained. ”“You let him?”“Yes.”“Then?”I was kissing the inside of her thighs now. I wanted things to go slower.“Tell me everything.”She was lying as still as she could, legs so wide, and her hands flat on the bed.“I drove to the dorm and he followed me. He waited outside for me to shower and change. I came out and he asked me where we should go. I said somewhere without many people. He smiled and started driving.“We parked behind his judo school. It was dark. He asked me if I wanted to see inside. I said. More

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