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My dad needed care, but not twenty-four-hour care. I took a part-time job at the county clinic in town and renewed acquaintances with old friends. On a Friday or Saturday night we'd get together at a local bar. In our small town there were only two and one was where respectable ladies would never be seen. My friends and I were by all public appearances respectable ladies.

I'd only been back two months when we were out, and a very handsome man came up to me and asked me to dance. He was a giant of a man, and much younger than me; much younger.

"You don't remember me, do you?"

I looked at him closely. There was something familiar about him, but I couldn't place him. "I'm sorry. You're too young to have gone to school with me. Where do I know you from?"

"My name is Harley Hansen."

"Oh my God. The last time I saw you . . ." Now, I realized why he looked so familiar, he was a dead ringer for his father. Tall, but he hadn't filled out yet, and handsome. Yep, just like his father.

"Don't say it."

...

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