He didn't know how he was going to face Sarah....After forcing himself on his foster daughter he had gotten up and stormed out of the house. He had come here, to his office, spending the night in the small bedroom. He had called home earlier to speak to Margi before she left for work, and she had sounded like her normal cheerful self, only mentioning Sarah to say that she had left for school without her Economics book. Jason didn't know what to expect. His behavior with Sarah had been unforgivable, but she obviously hadn't said anything to Margi...yet. He didn't know how he was going to be able to go home and face his foster daughter.Sarah was leaning back against the elevator wall, one leg crossed behind the other as she watched the screen counting up the numbers of the floors. She had gone home after school, but the time Jason usually came home came and went. It didn't take her long to realize that he was nervous about returning. She wasn't surprised, after the way he had left last. My salt and pepper hair is thick and nicely groomed, and, for several years now, I have sported a trimmed mustache and goatee to match. I detest the sardine-like conditions that go hand and hand with commuter travel, but tolerate them. As with every rush hour commute, the car was packed elbow to elbow, with barely room to turn around. Everyone fidgeted a bit, settling into their own personal space for the 28-minute commute out of town. The jockeying for position edged you towards me. To be more accurate, you were standing between my feet. I could wrap my arms around your waist you were so close. Even the train's warning whistle did little to prevent the sudden jolt of the cars moving forward, redefining everyone's personal space. Now you stood squarely between my legs, your legs nearly touching my crotch. A second forward jolt caught you off balance, practically knocking you off of your five-inch heels. Instinctively, I reached to stop your fall, but my hands landed in very private.
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