Mom’s fingers at my neck danced over the back of my neck and across my shoulders raising goose flesh on my skin and causing me to shiver slightly. ...hile we danced my hands moved slowly and almost to the music over the slick fabric of Mom’s new dress. I could feel her firm flesh beneath the thin fabric. My left hand coursed over her back and gently kneaded her shoulder blades before slowly sliding down to the small of her back and pulling her tighter against me. My right hand moved across her. “I’ll listen.” Listening might get him somewhere. Talking sure-as-hell hadn’t. Well, it had got him in the doghouse.“What you studied was microeconomics. It’s not really the same. They are terribly abstract. And, really, the abstractions aren’t close to the real world. What’s the competition for a burger-Hop double?”“Huh? A Whopper, I guess.”“But they aren’t really the same.”“I don’t think they are.”“We’re sitting in Burger Hut, having got here in a Packard. You sell drugs. Are there other. More

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