“Just a minute,” an unknown male voice called back.I nervously grabbed my phone and backed up toward the door.“Is Angela here?” I asked firmly..."She's not. I'm Carlos, her son, be right out," he answered.I relaxed as Angela did have a son that I met a few years ago. Angela talked about him often; he had been away at specialized esthetician school out of state. He was gay and I know that she wasn’t happy about that, not that she was ashamed but she wanted grandbabies.Carlos walked out of the back. ?No problem Missy?, I insisted and began to untie her sneaker. She tried one last time to pull her foot away, but my grip on her ankle prevented that. I got the shoe off and sat it beside me on the bench. She sighed in relief. Then I smiled and said, ?Well I don’t see any boulder.? She shook her foot and said, ?Maybe it’s still in my shoe.? I was rubbing her toes as I held the shoe to my eye level. I pretended to be looking for a rock, when actually I was deeply sniffing her essence into. More

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