Tuesday started hot and sunny, and even my light shorts and a T-shirt felt warm on the ride to work. But nothing compared to the heat Mrs. Jones, ahh,...Helen, generated in me, when she turned up, all dressed in white. A thin, white blouse with a rounded cut out, held together by a string, tied on her shoulders, a flimsy bra underneath, and a killer skirt. An innocent looking long skirt, almost to her feet, but whenever she was back lighted by the sun, pouring in through the windows, the thin. " Matthews, you amaze me. Everything else that's going on, all the shit flying around you, and you're still worried about Angela's future. Jimmy, she's not your responsibility."I didn't say, "Yes, as a matter of fact she is." And I actually managed to keep a straight face when I answered. "That's the problem; once he's out of the picture I'm afraid she's not going to be anybody's responsibility. I don't want her to fall through the cracks. She deserves a life; I intend to see she has a chance. More

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