He'd watch her as she caught her lower lip in her teeth as she concentrated, her head tilted slightly down, her blond hair framing her beautiful face,...blue eyes fixed on making his tie just right. Then she'd look up, and in heels they were about eye to eye, and he'd see the love in her eyes. He'd put his hands on her slim hips and draw her to him and her arms would go around his neck and they'd kiss. He loved her kisses.He saw himself in the mirror; tie still a mess, arms stretched out as if. Still, I knew he wanted the best for me. Even loved me, and expected great things from me. As opposed to my mother he challenged me to do things, rather than demanding them, and praised me when I succeeded.My mother, well, that part was tough. She was gorgeous, no doubt about it. I'd always known, from very little, that she was beautiful. Part of what made life hard around he was that she made sure you knew it too. Demanded that you re-enforce that image of her. She was equally demanding about. More

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