Liz swallowed half of her new drink. She felt a light bead of perspiration trickle down between the tingling mounds of her titties and settle in a tiny pool just above her navel. Her light dress seemed incredibly hot, and that same moistly warming sensation beneath her nylon panties that she had felt in the car began pulsating softly in her groin.

"I-I don't understand, dear," she managed to say, biting at her quivering lips. "Ma," he leaned over her very suddenly, "what has Pa been up to?" Liz managed to find a hanky and wiped her eyes. She avoided the question but she was trying, otherwise, to be very level-headed about the whole mess. She got control over her tears, but the shocking jolt of his question made her avoid thoughts of her husband in a kind of self-defense and to wonder instead why her son couldn't see where the true problem lay. His attention was all on her when it certainly should have been elsewhere. He was acting very strange, frightfully strange and the thing between his legs was sticking out like an erect pendulum. He didn't even seem concerned about it at all. She had brought him up better than that… surely.

"I don't think I heard you, Kevin," she murmured.

"Ma, drink your drink. I think we both need another one. And," he returned to the subject, "Natalie isn't going to pull some fool thing like that and get off without retaliation." People could sure be complicated, Kevin was thinking, especially mothers. His mother was of the old school, he knew. Still she was a good-looking and obviously frustrated woman.

She drank willingly. Thank God for the comfort and simplicity that liquor was giving her right now, she thought. The world was so complicated otherwise, so complex, so hard to understand. But with enough alcohol under her belt, all she had to do was ask the simple question, what do we do next, and let her son take over. "Well, what are we going to do now?" she asked softly, looking up at him.