13
Layton stood in front of the bedroom window in his shirt and pants, shoulders hunched, and hands buried deep inside his pockets. His shoes were scattered on the floor, his jacket and tie lay carelessly on the bed. He looked forlorn, a silhouette of dejection.
Janet walked over, put her arms around him, and rested her head on his shoulder. Without turning around, he asked, “Did Adam tell you?”
“Yes. You were right about the bath house.”
It was not the time for ‘I told you so’. Janet squeezed Layton tighter.
He turned around and looked into her eyes. “You know, Janet, ever since Adam told me this morning I’ve been thinking a lot about my childhood. Strange I hadn’t thought about my childhood for years. I remember a time when I was sitting on my father’s knee. I must have been about s
