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My folks meant well, and I knew they loved me. It wasn't their fault they had been brought up with such strict morals.I drove my car with the windows ...olled down that night. The wind seemed to be picking up and I could see the corn fields sway to the rhythm of the breeze. I quickly pulled out a tissue from my purse to dry my crying eyes before getting home. Otherwise I knew my mother would interrogate me with a dozen of questions on why I was crying.I was almost arriving home but I felt I. ” Now I was worried.Beth’s assurances were not that convincing, “Yes, everything. It will be fine. I won’t let her castrate you.”“Thanks. I’m going to hold you to that.” I was finding that Beth sometimes had a macabre sense of humor.My mother was in the living room, and Beth greeted her like this happened every day, “Hi, Mrs. Cramer. Thanks for letting me crash here last night.”Mom lifting an eyebrow was the only sign that showed her surprise when she saw Beth coming down the stairs with me on. More

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