The pretty young hostess asked if we were mother and son, I had my arm about mom’s waist and nodded negatively, “No - she is my date for tonight.�...� Mom giggling into her hand as the young hostess smiled politely then sat us. It is an old joke between mother and I.We each dove into the menu, talking to each about what we wanted to eat - then giving our order to the young male waiter with the spotted face.“I’ve come to a decision mom.” I reach across the table and take her hand, she squeezing mine. Was this another instance of his control over her mind and body?"I'm afraid not," he answered her unspoken thought. "It really is getting well past your usual lunch time, and you've had a strenuous morning. Come on, and we'll see what we can find in the kitchen. Mrs. Hilton, my housekeeper usually sees that there's something in the refrigerator for me to munch on, the days she isn't here."The kitchen demonstrated what a free hand with money could do to renovate an older house. The spacious room. More

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