It might pass, I thought. I boiled water in the electric tea pot for coffee that next morning. I hadn't done used the teapot before that morning. Things had previously conspired against me. The two cups of coffee make cowboy style, as my dad had called it, when he did it over a campfire in my youth, were the best I ever had. I decided that as I sat under a tree on my camp space and sipped the not too hot coffee.For the first time it seemed that I was on the road with nothing to do but ride and look at the passing scenery. It was wonderful. It only took me four days to find the peace in the trip.It was about lunch time when Georgia turned into Alabama. I found myself outside a small town, concrete block motel from the forties or fifties. It was still a couple of hours before dark, but I checked in anyway.I had promised myself a good dinner and a drink before I enjoyed a good night sleep in a soft bed. I knew that the motel offered all that without moving the Sprint.I had seen the. * * * I kept asking until I finally convinced Mom to let me take her to dinner the following weekend. I chose a very nice restaurant which had a club adjoining for those who wished to listen to some music, maybe dance and have a couple of after dinner drinks. I called and made reservations. I didn’t tell her where we were going but that it was a classy place and asked her to wear something nice as a favor for me. Saturday arrived and I was giddy with excitement over the prospects of taking Mom to dinner. She surprised me when she came out of her bedroom in her little black dress! It was modest but accentuated her figure quite nicely. I whistled reflexively which raised her eyebrows. Her dress was a sheath which came to her knees and the top showed a small expanse of flesh below her throat but no cleavage. Nonetheless, her breasts were nicely highlighted though subtly. ‘Wow, Mom! You look so hot!’ ‘Jeff! That’s no way to talk to your mother,’ she said. ‘I’m sorry, Mom. But.
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