“Tiffany, you are not going out like that.”“Mom! God, you just don’t get it!”“Tiffany! I am your mother, and you cannot speak to me like t...at.”I looked down at my outfit. What was Mom’s problem? I was wearing a thin white tank-top and a hot pink bra. The bra was pretty clearly visible under the top, but that was the point.She was probably just jealous.“I’m just going out with my friends!”“With who? Brittany?”“No...”“Don’t lie to me, young lady.”I actually wasn’t lying. For some reason, the idea. During dinner, we talked about what we were going to do over the weekend. She knew I would tell her about my day later. With dinner over, Mary stood and went to the fridge. She took out a small bowl of strawberries along with a small bowl of whipped cream. I watched as she returned, placing the bowls on the table and returned to her chair.I sat silently and took a sip of scotch as she smiled seductively. Her hand reached for a plump, ripe strawberry in the bowl. The red berry was swirled in the. More

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