"What happened to your dress, Shari?"

Shari had entered her house through the rear door, trying to sneak through the wash room and down the hall to her room without her mother seeing her.

She turned and saw her mother in the doorway leading to the kitchen. "I… fell, Mom," she lied.

"Fell?" Joyce stared at her daughter. "And tore your dress just by falling? What were you doing, climbing trees again? And you have dirt and leaves all in your hair."

"I gotta take a bath," Shari muttered and ran down the hall toward her room.

Joyce watched her daughter, a frown on her face. She did not believe that story for a minute. A dress would not be torn in that manner by a fall.

Joyce felt exasperated again. Ever since her husband had passed away, she had been struggling to raise her daughter and son as best she could, along with keeping the orange grove up. The task was almost too much for her, and she often thought of selling out and moving into the city. There would be enough money from the sale for them to live for years if she was careful. Joyce didn't like living way out here, away from neighbors. When her husband was with her, she loved it. But now she had no one except Shari and Bobby.

She wanted to enjoy herself, go out and meet people, preferably men. The word 'men' always startled Joyce. But she was honest with herself. She was intensely sexual and was constantly horny. There were no men out here for her to meet except for the transient laborers, and she wanted nothing to do with them. What men there were had wives and families, and she wanted nothing to do with that sort of situation.