She looked at my eyes and hers were dark, like the rest of her. There was emotion there, but I couldn't identify what kind of emotion it was. She was ...cting so calm ... measured almost ... like she was acting out a scene she had practiced for a long time."Do you like my PJs?" she asked.Never in a thousand years would I have called what she was wearing "PJs". It was another odd little thing that suggested she wasn't quite as sure of herself as she appeared to be. Then again, what the hell did. A wide brimmed hat. A beard. Fake moustaches. More than enough stuff to disguise two nude bike riders. To disguise a mother and her son.It was just after eleven at night when I finally got home. I'd been in my room for only about five minutes before mom appeared in my doorway. She found me sitting at my desk facing my computer. All I had on were a pair of boxer shorts. I'd been waiting for her. I'd already started up my laptop and opened the home page of the Onancock Nudist Society.Mom didn't. More

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