“You’re a great soccer player, you know, but you seem to favor your left leg when dribbling.” My mouth formed an O and I let out a soft moan. �...Childhood injury?” Greg asked. “Yes, I fell bike riding last year and hurt my right ankle”, I said fully turning to face him. “I hope you don’t mind me asking, but may I see your ankle, you might want to consider investing in a brace.” “Sure,” I said almost too willingly. I sat down on the bench and Greg kneeled in the grass. He pulled off. Slowly I rolled out of bed and yawned, looking around everything seemed as I had left it, I didn't see any sign that my daughter had been here at all so I got dressed and started to explore the house. Finally I found her making breakfast in the kitchen and my stomach grumbled at the smell of the cheesy scrambled eggs and the beef bacon. “Good morning, honey. For a moment I thought last night was just a dream, that smells wonderful by the way.”She smiled over her shoulder toward me, “You really. More

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