"She nodded knowingly. "He did, didn't he? I can see it in your eyes. I suspected as much." Look, Mrs. Blackmore..." I started."Call me Mary," she sai...d. "I think you and I need to be on a first name basis, don't you?"This really threw me off guard. Call her Mary?"Bill," she went on, "you know about Bob Simpson, right?"I nodded. "Yes." I appreciate your honesty," she said. "I don't how you got Jack to tell you that story, especially since he hated your guts, but somehow you did. This should. The thought of this excited me because his chocolate bar looked enormous and those puffy luscious lips were begging to be sucked on.For a few days before we met I became obsessed with the song "Birthday Sex" by Jeremih. All day at work and all night I would listen to it repeatedly. Wanting and waiting for his birthday to come. I drove myself crazy with anticipation to meet him. What was only a few days seemed like a month.The day came and I arrived at his apartment as scheduled and eager to. And I was my own boss. I was the news reporter for a small town, 1000-watt radio station. And I had delusions of grandeur. No Les Nesman here. I was going to be the next Murrow, the next Welles, the next guy who said "Oh, the Humanity" at the burning of the Hindenburg.The rumor was that every other Friday, the City Manager, Barb Bramble, and her husband Chuck hosted great big parties at their home south of town. I considered the sources: A lot of people didn't like her, partly because she. I don't know whether he'll come back and act like everything's normal, or whether he's gone for good. I don't know what we'll do for money either."Sarah saw that her mother was clouding up. She drew Gabby into a loving embrace, a mother-daughter embrace. Sarah knew that her mother's entire world would change forever. She hoped she was up to the task of managing her new family."That bed is awfully big for just one," Sarah whispered. "You aren't used to sleeping alone, and I'm not used to.