You haven’t earned the right to call me Ma’am or Mistress,” my mom insisted. “Get dressed. We are going to clean Honey’s trailer and then go...to the beach,” she said.I noticed my mother was wearing a skimpy G-string bikini with a hot little top that barely covered her sizable nipples.“I am not wearing one of those bikinis,” I insisted.“I don’t give a crap if you wear a paper bag. You can wear a bathing suit or jeans for all I care. You are not my problem. You can get up and fix yourself. I had to trust Zeus about the telling of my identity to Artemis. I acknowledged that it would simplify everything, if she knew about me. It would probably simplify things if she knew about Martinez, also, but that was not my secret to tell. So I trusted Zeus, again, about that.I was just humming along, looking for an alternate 'home' for the time period after August, when the University of Minnesota's computers would get busy again. I was reading Faulkner, and checking my email traps. China was. More

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