At that moment all I knew was I wanted to be part of him. In any way he wanted me. Underfoot. Hanging aloft. Tied in knots. Or in any manner whatsoeve....Without stretching the truth, I almost knelt at his feet during John's introduction. And the knowing smile that he gave me let me know that he knew how I felt. I was his and he knew it.Reaching out his hand to me, I took it. All thoughts of John, of the others attending the party, of mom, of school and everything else, disappeared as his hand. I’d been away a couple of years and done some growing up in between, so when I’d hugged Mom on reuniting, she’d seemed small and vulnerable, her eyes searching for comfort.“My how you’ve grown so Dick!” She’d exclaimed.Within a few day’s her behaviour altered. She became slightly more compulsive and fanciful about things than she’d been before. I guess it was an emotional shift due to the trauma of Dad’s death. She viewed me no longer as the youth to be managed: more the man she could turn. More

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