But she had failed to make the call. She would have to wait another painful day.Angry with herself for her inaction, she went to bed.The next day was as excruciating as she had feared. She knew that she absolutely had to call Sandy when she got home, but the day just seemed to move so slowly that she felt as though she might scream. When it was finally time to go home, she practically sprinted to her car. It was Friday, so the traffic was particularly heavy, and Mindy found herself cursing each red light; fuming at each traffic jam; raging at each slow driver who didn't share her urgency.Finally, she got home.She decided that she wanted to wait just a moment – to make sure that Sandy would be home when she called. But she wasn't going to make the same mistake that she had made last night. She wasn't going to let herself lose track of time.She went to the kitchen and pulled out a timer. She set it for forty five minutes. By then, Sandy would surely be home, and Mindy would make the. Can we talk for a minute?” “I don’t want to talk to you until your father comes home.” She spouted. “Please, Mom, can I come in?” I returned. I was trying so hard to not get upset and to just talk to her. Finally, I just walked in. I saw my mother on her sitting couch. I could see three bottles of wine that were empty and a forth bottle almost gone. She was kind of laying down listening to Miles Davis. It was a piece that I heard her play a lot in the past. Her eyes were at the point of just being open. Her room was dark. She only had a reading lamp on in the corner. I could tell that she was only wearing her night clothing. She wore a black silk night shorts and very loose black silk matching top. The shorts were high up on her thigh. The material was very loose like you could slide your hand right up the leg without hitting a thing. The way my mother was sitting on the couch, kind of on her side with her head back, I could she her nipples through her top. They were very erect. My.
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