When I walked down the hallway, the bathroom door would open, and my daughter, wearing only a towel, would suddenly squeeze past me on her way back to...her room. Almost always she would brush against me with only the towel tightly wrapped around her body. Now and then her towel loosened and fell open, giving me a glance at her smooth flesh. Then one morning she stopped in front of me clad in a small, damp, and clinging towel.“Daddy, don’t forget to pick me up at Darlene’s house. “Yep. Still with us,” she said.“Good,” said the red-headed driver. “Nicky, I’d feel a whole lot better if you sat down and put on your seat belt.”“Sure,” Nicky Moore beamed, delighted that someone cared. “Anything you say, Miz W.”“You’d better start calling me Sara,” she said. “I don’t plan on anyone asking me if you’re my daughter on this trip.”I erupted in another snorting, snarking attempt to breathe before relaxing. But I had to pull my jacket closed as the town car’s supercharged AC was. More

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