Her face was streaked with tears, and I felt as low as I'd ever felt. She slowly rose, never taking her eyes off me."I'm s-sorry, Mom," I said, my voice breaking. I went on before I could chicken out. "I ... I miss Fuzz."Her face softened. "Brody..."My eyes welled with tears again. "It's my fault he's gone, Mom, and I don't think I can live with that." I squeezed my eyes shut, fighting to keep my composure with all my strength.I didn't want to cry. Dammit, I did not want to cry. I didn't know why I was so afraid to. Maybe I thought I wouldn't stop if I started. Maybe I just didn't want to appear weak. I really didn't know, but I suddenly felt Mom's arms around me."It's OK, Brody, it's OK," she soothed. "It's OK, Baby."She didn't try to tell me it WASN'T my fault he was dead, and I was grateful for that, for some reason. I'd heard people say that too many times, but they weren't there that day; they didn't know what I knew. Mom held me tight, let me rest my face in her neck, and. “She knows I don’t want to say anything about the sex we had, anything positive that is, yet she expects me to do just that.”“The night was just a blur actually,” she tried.“Oh, come on!” Ms. Brendan teased, “You’ve done great up to know, please don’t ruin it now.”“Just pretend,” Donna reminded herself. “Just pretend...” “Oh, okay,” she blurted out. “I really enjoyed what we did in the car yesterday.”“There you go,” Ms. Brendan approved. “But be a bit more specific. I need to know a bit more about what we did and your feelings, emotions, about what we did. Then I can make the experience even better.”“I’m in a food court, and she expects me to reveal my sexual desires out loud!”“Well, obviously I liked the...” she changed her voice to a murmur; “licking.”“Actually true,” she thought. “But still if I had a choice, I’d prefer Robert’s tongue.” It was a small act of defiance just to think that.“Hmmm, continue,” Ms. Brendan encouraged as she took a bite, and waved her right hand in.
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