It passed and I withdrew from Miranda’s body. We moved back to our sleeping positions and cuddled some more.“It’s getting near dinner time,” M...randa finally noted, “Guess we should clean up and get going.”I chuckled.“Never did get to the watering or other work I was supposed to do,” I said with a satisfied sigh.“Something distracted you, I guess,” Miranda said with obvious glee.“Indeed, it did. I’ll come back tomorrow.”“Maybe I should come help. I was the distraction, after all.”“Then I’ll just. There Joe was with a hammer in his hand, putting up some picture hooks. “Jesus Christ, couldn’t you wait till everyone got up then start hammering. And what is that wearisome smell, I want to be sick,” I called out.Joe stopped what he was doing, turned to my father who was turning some bacon over in the frying pan. “Costa, hasn’t your son ever got drunk?” he asked my father, with a smirk on his face.“I guess no,” my father replied.“Michael, you want one or two eggs with your bacon,” my father. More

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