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I won’t say your father deserved to die ... I don’t think any human being deserves to die before his time. I understand why your mother did it.” He regarded the girl and saw a tear roll down her cheek. “Hey...” Hollis embraced her and she rested her face on his shoulder. “Sorry...”“I’ll be in my thirties before she has a chance of freedom,” Annie sniffled. “I miss her horribly.”“At least there’s a light at the end of your tunnel,” he replied, “even if it is a long one. Mine’s only darkness.”“I’m okay,” Annie said. Hollis released her from his embrace. She closed up her textbook and binder and slipped them into a backpack.Hollis sat on a stool behind the counter. Annie picked up a feather duster and began using it on a shelf of porcelain figurines. “You know what you should do?” she asked.“What’s that?” Hollis answered as he powered up a laptop computer near the register.“You should make a page on Facebook. That way you can keep in touch with your regular customers.”“I suppose you. It wasn’t necessarily unpleasant, but it was flustering. I was blushing and tongue-tied, which was totally unlike me. In my honor, Aunt Wendy had baked Brown Betty a la mode for desert. I was on my second bite when Skip’s fingers brushed my thigh, sending a cascade of little shivers down my spine. I told myself it was accidental, but a moment later his fingers were back, this time caressing me in a way that could only be deliberate. I considered pushing his hand away, but Skip’s fingers were evoking sensations I’d never felt before. He’d begin by touching just above my knee, then slowly tracing a path up the inside of my thigh. Each time he repeated this caress, it ended closer and closer to the gap between my legs, and my entire body pulsed with a sexual energy and anticipation. A tiny voice commanded me to make Skip stop. But I was powerless against the pent up urges and antificaption that Skip’s magic fingers were releasing. Then, from somewhere far away, I realized another voice.
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