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A small indiscretion... and decisions to be taken.

"I don't know. I think ... uh ... I mean there's not really -"

She started laughing, just a low giggle at first, but growing and persistent enough to make both of our bodies shake before she got it under control.

"Oh, ha, this is going to be good. What has that naughty brain of yours cooked up that you're too embarrassed to tell me, after all this time?"

I frowned as if I didn't like being teased, but in reality that was the perfect response to free me up from my nerves and make me think I could actually ask her.

"All right, there's something. I'm just worried it will cross a line."

Patting my cheek, she said. "Honey, I don't think you have it in you to cross my lines - or even figure out how far out they are. Tell me. Whatever it is, we're going to have a great time with it."

So I told her.

* * *

The following Monday I got off work a few minutes earlier than normal, and traffic moved remarkably smoothly, and I found myself approaching Gloria's neighborhood at twenty to six instead of my normal five till. So I did what I normally do when I'm early and went to the corner gas station to blow a little time. I knew from casual conversation that Gloria always kept an hour's buffer between appointments, to get the sheets changed, tidy the room, shower and freshen herself up - and especially, to make sure her clients didn't cross paths. Even so, I always worried about the possibility of pulling up through the alley behind her street and finding some other car in the driveway, a guy with his seat leaned a little back and his eyes closed, afterglowing from an hour or two or three of what I was about to enjoy. The image made my stomach flip - and worse yet was the idea that he'd notice me, lift his head and give a grin and a thumbs-up before pulling away. More realistically, though less disturbing, I didn't want to risk her hearing my car roll up and feeling like she had to rush to let me in early.

For peace of mind, then, and out of simple courtesy, I stopped and topped off my tank (which didn't need it), checked all my tires and fluids, and then headed into the station's convenience store, meaning to clean the car-grime off my hands in the restroom.

But as I reached for the door handle, it swung out at me instead, and I had to jump back to keep from getting hit.

And there she was.

She looked up from fumbling the keys out of her purse, opened her mouth reflexively to apologize, and then froze when she recognized who she'd almost conked with the door.

Crap. What do I say? Duh, asshole, you say you're sorry like you told Gloria you wanted to last week.

"Look," I said, raising my hands in what I hoped was a conciliatory gesture, "I apologize for the other day. You were nice to let me in, and I should have just left it at that."

She made a sound in her throat. I couldn't tell if it was a grunt of acceptance or a growl. Her face looked resentful. "I wasn't being nice. I was just letting my mom push me around. You could have waited."

"I could have, and I'm -"

Another customer approached the store, and she stepped out to let the woman pass. When the door swung shut again, a little of the harsh edge had left her expression.

"Just - let's drop it, okay? Mom was really mad at how I acted. She guilt-tripped me all through dinner about you being one of the good ones, and if that's true then maybe I shouldn't have been such a bitch - whether or not I believe there's such a thing as a 'good one.'"

"You should believe it," I said. Hearing that Gloria had talked about me warmed something up in my chest, and made me want even more to make her daughter shed some of this disgust and judgment. "I'm not going to speak for myself, but she's told me before she has a lot of clients she actually likes. She says she'd have to change jobs if she didn't."

"Whatever. Anyway, if she's right then I'm sorry. Shit, you guys are paying for my college education, so I guess I ought to be sorry regardless. I just can't stand the idea of her being used like that."

The door jingled b

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