Mom had stayed firm and tone though, in high school all my friends had joked at how hot she was. I looked down at her sleek form, mom was almost forty, she had had me young, barely eighteen when I was born, dad was almost twenty six when I was born, and his desire for younger women had never abated, hence the divorce. She came out with a wet facecloth and sat heavily on the couch laying the facecloth across her eyes and tilting her head back. She laid her purse on the kitchen table and headed into the bathroom. I guess she had three interviews all space pretty comfortably apart, but by the time she got home she was beat. Once we were settled mom lined up some job interviews and took the train downtown. Our new house was smaller than what we were used to, and everything seemed close and confined, but we called it ‘cozy’ and got used to it. The whole divorce had kind of put my college plans on hold, and I had resigned to be there for mom. Since then dad had become a raging asshole, so we moved. My dad had been screwing around on mom, she found out they split up. The divorce was still a fairly raw wound for both of us. We had just moved to a new town, my mother and I.
