She's my mom, Hermione. I'd always see her in a light yellow chiton. Even though she worked every day in the garden on her hands and knees her clothes...always were clean. I remember her smiling while complaining that I hadn't inherited that trick. I must have been a messy kid.I remember sitting by the field, watching my mother dig her hands into the stones and rub them into soil. I thought that it was a pretty cool trick so I tried it. I'd been at it a while when mom caught me. I must have been. It's venison stew. I know that you stop here on your way home from work and you must be hungry. I don't think it would be unprofessional to have dinner with a client."I guess that I should have realized that he was courting me or wooing me or whatever but that whole notion is so antiquated, especially considering we had already had sex, that it flew right over my head. Or maybe I should blame the deer blood for making me accept. Soon he was out of his camo and back into jeans and a flannel. More

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