"Hmm," Peter said. "We could give that a try, I guess. We haven't stayed over at each other's houses since we were twelve though." I'm sure my parents...would allow it since we're holding hands and all that," Jennifer said as she smiled weakly."I'd thought that would be the reason why they wouldn't allow it." You don't know my parents as well as I do," Jennifer replied as she stood up. Pulling Peter along, she continued, "Come on, let's go ask them!"Walking hand-in-hand down the stairs, Jennifer. “On the table.” My mother folded her arms beneath her bosom, my eyes going to the precipitous cleavage. I had a moment to wonder why she was wearing the blouse because it was a touch too showy at the scooped neck for everyday wear. “Looks official,” she added.We were in the kitchen. It was 6 p.m. and I’d just arrived home from work. My mother was near the sink, a glass of white wine in her hand.I put my phone, car keys, and laptop bag down on the counter. “It’s my divorce,” I suggested.My. More

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