" So you're thinkin', what's an old fart like me doing, trying to recruit boyfriends for his grown-up daughter. Right? Where do I get off? Shoot, boy,...I could see, just over the dinner table tonight, how you were looking at that girl!" I swear to God, Patrick, I haven't had any designs on her. I am not about to make any moves on your daughter!" Todd, Goddamn it, I'm on your side, boy! I'm trying to tell you that it isn't nasty or wrong for you to think about Maureen in that way! My God, why not. For almost as long as she had lived here, Desirée had been coming to visit the pretty bleach-blonde thirty-year-old at least twice a week, and they were fast friends. The only thing that Desirée didn't particularly like about the older woman had been her liaison with Clete, for she could never quite get over her aversion to interracial romances. She, Desirée, could never be so involved, and the idea of her friend's doing it put her off. But then Clete and Liz had split up. More

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