Dad was sitting at the kitchen table, apparently reading multiple newspapers at once. His luggage was resting in the hallway. He must have taken the...cross-Atlantic red eye.“Hey Teddy,” he said, barely glancing up from his papers. “Been keeping out of mischief?”An image of Mom lying beneath me with her legs draped over my shoulders flashed before my eyes. “Don’t stop, Teddy! Don’t stop!”“Always, Dad. How was the tennis?”Dad started reeling off some mind-numbing stats about Pete Sampras’. Mary also told her that if she did not do what she told her, Bruno would find out via the grapevine and then the shit would really hit the fan. She also patted her poddy little tummy and told Celeste that because Sam could only fire blanks, she had had a complete man, who used live ammo, to put her little tummy bump there. Mary then joyfully skipped out of the office and entered the closest female rest room where she wrote on the mirror very legibly with lipstick these words :-"Sam can only. More

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