It was a bottle of California Chardonnay, still chilled. ‘I didn’t know what you were having tonight, so I brought this along.’ he mumbled, nee...lessly defensive. ‘How wonderful!’ cried Marge. ‘We’ll have some now. I already opened some red wine for the dinner table.’ Walter followed her into the kitchen. He raised his head slightly to take in the aroma. ‘Something smells good in here.’ he said. ‘It’s pot roast—my specialty.’ Marge answered. ‘I hope that you like it!’ ‘It’s been so long since. She had run away three times. The last time she'd been found with heroin tracks on her arms, and wasn't even aware she had been pimped out for real. She had turned eighteen in the middle of rehab and when the state kicked her to the curb and stopped paying, the rehab center kicked her to the curb too. Jennifer had no idea where her daughter was now. There had been no word for more than two years.Visualizing an imaginary finger, she located each tight muscle with her mind and intentionally. More

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