Pero volviendo a mis 11 años, recuerdo que mi mamá me mandaba a comprar al negocio del sr. Alberto. Él tenía una tienda de productos de limpieza y...muchas veces mi mamá, a mediodía, se quedaba sin lavaplatos o detergente. El negocio a esa hora estaba cerrado, pero como había confianza mi mamá lo llamaba y él atendía sus necesidades. Yo bajaba y él abría la puerta que luego cerraba con llave. Ya me empezaban a salir los pechos, tenia los pezones brotados y el sr. Alberto miraba mucho mi. “I’d like to hear what your mom has to say,” he said. “Besides ... this is really good pizza.”“It’s only good because it’s got half of my pepperoni on it,” she grumbled.“That isn’t it,” he smirked. His smiled disarmed her and took away a bit of her anger. I was dying to see what he did next.“It tastes good because you touched it,” he said. It was almost like an emotional explosion in the room. Karen’s mouth dropped open and she had to force it back into the frown, she’d been holding.The most. More

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