“Hi there,” Princeton smiled. “Hey. Wassup, Mr. Wells,” said the six-foot-one, one-hundred-eighty-five pound visitor. “Come in! And, please ...rontae call me ‘Princeton’ or ‘P.T.’. Would you like something to drink?” “Yeah. That’s cool.” “What do you want?” “I have most everything.” “You got a beer?” “Yes, but you can’t drink and drive leaving here,” he smiled. “Yeah!” “Let me grab it. Go ahead and take a seat.” Princeton rushed off to the kitchen and pulled a Corona from his stainless steel. My best friends mum was in her 50’s and we just kind of clicked. She wasn’t a stunner, just a good mum who liked to have a bit of fun every once in a while. Living alone I was often invited around for something to eat and especially on a Friday evening before me and Steve would hit the town (always better to drink having eaten). She was married with two grown boys and I often felt jealous of Steve having such a close family but Mary would make me feel like part of the family.So apart from the. More

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