She doesn't live here anymore and it's just me and Jordan. Isat down. "Jamal, I'm so sorry." We talked for a while and then it waslast call. "Wanna ge... some coffee?" he asked. I said that would be nice.We started to be friends. He was a good guy. A little crude but nice andgentle and a wonderful dad. Jordan was now 4 years old and he was allboy. One Sunday afternoon I was sitting by the pool and tanning. Jamalhad stopped by many times with Jordan and he would sometimes stay fordinner and Jordan. And, mom just wanted to get things for us kids... like her helping me to get my motor cycle! Christ!"I know something else, too..." she taunted."Lay it on me... too!" he growled, not turning to face her."Your dad's in jail! He beat up a guy in a bar... because he called your mother a whore!" Great! Just great! Don grunted, "I hope he rots there!"He walked quickly down the walk, started his bike and shot off down the street, without a backward glance.God! What a mess! Our family's just one great. More

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