‘Throw your shoe at it, you won’t need it anymore.’’’Mark threw off his slippers and I looked at his big feet. He curled his toes and rubbed...his soles against one another. ‘‘When she took the wine, a bird flew down onto the windowsill and said: ‘A whore is she who drinks the blood of her own’. ‘Grandmother,’ said the girl, ‘there’s a bird telling me I’m drinking my own blood.’‘The bird lies, said the wolf. ‘Throw your cloak at it, you won’t need it anymore.’’’Now Mark sat just a little wider. “But yes, they’re that bad.”“No massages?”“Nope, no massages of any kind.”“Does that have anything to do with why you kissed me at my hotel room door after the benefit?”David looked at his mother with eyebrows raised.“Hey, just throw it out there, Mom.”“Well, it’s been on my mind, David. It’s been a week and you haven’t said anything about it.”“Neither have you. Besides this is the first time we’ve been alone together since then.”“I know. But I’ve thought about it, a lot. What was going on. More

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