. you understand what I mean. I had lived in the city all my life but every summer and most Christmases I would be sent to the family farm in Nebraska to learn my roots. I had braved tornadoes, floods droughts, and one winter storm that isolated us for ten days. I had learned at my Grandfathers knee the proper procedure for a crisis situation and if anything was a crisis, it was this. Going into the kitchen I performed an inventory. As most of my flatmates had left and were not to come back. " Well, I was just going to get something to drink in the kitchen, and I saw the two of you kissing, and I couldn't stop looking. I'm sorry and it will never happen again."I calmed down a little as I realized part of my anger was addressed at myself, for getting so excited when I saw my son watching me. I wondered if I even put a little extra enthusiasm in my show for my secret audience, Saturday night. It seemed that our mother and son relationship was getting a little blurred at the edges. The waiter came up to them, he was an average looking boy, around Grace’s age. He had short blonde hair and brown eyes. He wasn’t very physically developed, but he wasn’t a complete wimp either. He said, “What can I get for you?”Grace said sweetly, “Hey, Peter, I would like to have the cinnamon pancakes and a glass of milk.”Brad could only smile, partly because of how cute this young woman was, but also because he could tell this young boy had a crush on her and she was with him, the alpha male. No matter what he did, no matter how he thoughtabout computers, he couldn't get that place out of his mind.Within twenty minutes, Cal was at the ticket booth. He struggledwith himself. "I'm just going to prove it wasn't real," he mumbledas he paced again. The girl in the ticket booth was watching himnervously, perhaps wondering if he weren't some kind oftroublemaker. Cal turned away. "I'm going home," he said. Hisfeet stayed rooted in their spots. "I'm not going in." He did a slowturn back.
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