She rushed up to see what it was only to be confronted by a woman asking, "Who the hell are you?" I'm Caryn." Pause. Then angrily, "Who are you?" This is my house," the woman said loudly pushing past Caryn.The noise had brought Mike. He rounded the hall corner and stopped. "Cyndi, what the hell are you doing here?" This is my house," she said."You walked out," he said and Caryn could hear the hurt in those words. "Now get out of here." You can't kick me out of my own home," Cyndi said angrily."I'll repeat it for you." Slowly, Mike said, "You walked out with your fucking boy toy."Caryn put her hand to her mouth. She had never seen or heard Mike so angry.That motion brought her to Cyndi's attention. "Who's the girl toy?"Now Mike's rage nearly exploded. He took several deep breaths. "You know who that is. That's Caryn, the foster kid. You signed the papers."Cyndi looked at her contemptuously. "This doesn't have anything to do with her." For once we are in agreement." Turning to Caryn,. We kissed and cuddled for a time, lost in our own thoughts of wishes and acceptance, unspoken longings and unfulfilled desires balanced by the unreserved respect of our individual silent vows. Our kisses became more and more chaste, until finally they were as we had started, soft and tender and loving.Two weeks later, I had a very busy weekend planned. The girls had their first game on Friday night, and I was going to watch the varsity team play. There was a pizza party planned for after the game, and Kristina and I were going to go. On Saturday morning, she was coming over to my house to work on a project we were doing together for our English class. We had the same teacher, but were in different classes, so the assignments were the same for both classes. Then, later in the afternoon, Davey and Kip had their first game of the season. I was hoping that the lane drills we had been using would pay off during a game situation, and was anxious to see how it worked.The weekend started out.
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