25
“I used to find you like this in our bedroom closet, asleep on a robe,” he said as I scrambled to cover myself. I felt like a teenager who got busted making out with his girlfriend—or worse—by his parents.
“Haven’t you heard of knocking?” I asked. “Waiting for an invitation? Good gods, were you watching?”
“I gave you your privacy, but you know I didn’t teach you like this, son. Do you and the young lady have some sort of understanding? Are you at least engaged?”
I turned to him, open-mouthed with shock and feeling all of fifteen. “What do you mean you didn’t teach me like this? You died before I was even looking at girls.”
“But I always taught you to respect women.”
“Oh, I do respect her even though she drives me crazy. Now, do you have something important to say? I need to go aft
