If I do, gotta wait until the next day for an answer.” I smiled, as things seemed to be relaxing between us. “So Addy,” he began, “what is it ...hat you wear to bed. Just out of curiosity. You don’t have to tell me.” I looked down at myself, even though laying down did not give me the best view. I was not sure if I should tell him what I really wore to bed, or if I should make something up. I had not lied at all as of yet, maybe starting now was not such a good idea. “Shorts,” I said, as if it. My sixteen-year-old son slept naked these days and was only half-covered by a sheet and the bedspread, his bare back and one leg exposed. He lay on his tummy, his head on the pillow, his mouth open a quarter inch as he breathed. It reminded me of when I was his age, asleep in my room, dreaming sixteen-year-old girl dreams.That’s now twenty-one years ago. I remembered it like this:“Daddy?” I mumbled. My head was foggy with sleep. He had just, barely, woken me up.“Hey, baby girl,” he said. More

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