The towel was wrapped tightly around her and tucked securely between her breasts. I slipped the newer section of the pipe into place to insure it wou...d be a good fit. I looked at Donna. “Can you do me a favor?” I asked. She smiled. “Can you hand me that roll of white tape in the tool box,” I said. Donna scooted around on her ass. The tool box was about three feet from the end of my feet. Donna slipped up onto a knee and then a second, as she stretched for the tool box. I had a clear. I went out of my way to cook healthy, nutritious meals, and any leftovers went into Daisy's refrigerator.Mrs. Jefferson had lived a hard life. She was born and grew up in the Jim Crow South. She and her second cousin escaped to the north when they were in their teens, eventually got married and bought their two-bedroom bungalow in 1941. She'd been living there ever since. Her husband, Calvin was conscripted as a ship's porter and went down with the rest of the crew after their ship was. More

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