They were the sort she would wear when feeling alittle fat - control knickers I think you call them. She threw them atme. And gave me a look to say ...hat I'd better put them on. I didn'thang around.After a bit of rummaging, she produced a pair of fishnet hold-ups fromthe drawer and again threw them at me."Darling, can't we just..." I tried to say."Shut up. Put on the stockings and do as you're told," she snapped.The message was clear.She picked up the shoes I'd brought in and examined them. . I’ve never cried in front of her before. Well, not since we were kids. Mortified, I turned away. Her hand found my cheek as she pulled herself up onto her knees beside me. “Darren, that’s not fair. You can’t ignore me for years, and then when I move on, you act like I wasn’t the one pining after you.” “What?” I asked, ignoring my embarrassment and looking her in the eyes. “Remember freshman year? When I wanted to go to homecoming and I asked you who you were taking. You said you wouldn’t go. More

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