After a while, we went into the living room, and Eve made sure I was comfortable on the sofa. She sat at the other end and sighed.
“Man, I wish we could get drunk, but I shouldn’t even joke about it. You ruined booze for me!” She laughed. “Can we talk? I mean, can I ask you some serious and possibly rude questions?”
“Well, since you probably saved my life, you can ask me anything you want.”
“It’s about your dad. I’m afraid I’m really starting to like the old fart.”
I noticed she wouldn’t look at me when she said that, but looked at her nails, out the window, and everywhere but me.
“I mean, I know your mom’s gone and he’s been alone a long time, but s**t, is he really as homophobic as he makes out to be? And do you think he’s got any idea that I’m not, uh, anatomically what he would li
