“Your backhoe will get by the garage. I measured.” The man was taking notes.Ronald was inside with his friend Sandy. The two got along together so...well, Susan thought. Lots of fifteen-year-olds just roughhouse around.“Hey, Mom, we used up the Fizzies.”“That’s fine, dear. Hello, Sandy.”“Hello, Mrs. Mumford.” Sandy was such a polite child, so grown up for his age, but still a kid. “Just call me Susan,” she’d told him, but it was still “Mrs. Mumford.” James, his dad, was their minister at Harvest. 'No, no no. I'm fine -- really,' he blurted out too quickly. She rose from the desk and walked around towards him to check out the problem. 'If you're not feeling well today, I'd suggest you...' she stopped dead in her tracks, her eyes bulging at his tumescence. He looked down, too embarassed to hide it in front of her. 'I'm sorry,' he muttered, rising to his feet, feeling stupid at the boner making a tent in his trousers. 'I must be going.' She caught his hand before he could move. . More

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