"Margie looked at me a bit blankly for a moment, but then it must have dawned on her that I had something more than our usual fun in store. Whether she realized that it was a glory hole that I'd found, I don't know. She now looked quite eager as she asked, "you're sure that it's safe." What shall I wear." she asked, walking to her wardrobe. "Just something to get on and off easily," I replied.We were ready in just a few minutes, and on our way. It was about a twenty minute drive to get there, and we didn't talk at all, both lost in our own thoughts."Here's the place," I said, as I pulled into one of the parking bays alongside another parked car. I was so excited, but also a little nervous, and I could tell that Margie was also. "You're sure it's safe," she again repeated. I reassured her, but I could tell that she was in two minds about it all. "There's another car here," she said meekly. I got out of the car and was happy to find that Margie followed my example. We walked the. She turned her head to one side, so she could see me. “The worst. Mrs. Frasier is doing pop quizzes, now.” With monumental effort she lifted her flat-ironed dirty blonde head out of the table’s gravitational pull and rested her chin on her hands, with a pout. My daughter has a round, babyish face and light, warm brown eyes that seemed genetically designed to make her pouting look adorable. She was not in an adorable mood, though. “I hate algebra. I don’t get it,” she confessed, with a sigh. I sat down on the bench seats of the table, nodding. She squished her lips to one side, wrinking her nose. “Ahh,” I said, patting the seat beside me. Apart from the leggings, she’d worn a crop-top pullover sweatshirt, with the neck cut out, so it regularly fell off one shoulder or the other, exposing the sports bra she wore underneath. The sports bra completely flattened her out and left nothing for the sweatshirt to hang onto if, and when it lost its grip on her shoulders..
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