“Stockings? I tossed them down the laundry chute before I came upstairs." “Laundry chute." I repeated, feeling like an idiot.

“Why would you think I had them?" Paul's eyes narrowed.

"I don't know, thought maybe you took them by accident."

“How would I do that?"

“I don't know, just not thinking straight I guess." I told him.

“That was my last good pair and I wanted to make sure I didn't lose them.”

“Right. He said in a tone that said he didn't believe my lame excuse. His eyes tried to find mine, but I turned my head, avoiding his gaze.

“Anyway, sorry I woke you." I briefly touched his cheek.

“Go back to sleep."

“You go to sleep." He replied.

“Seriously, you're acting freaky tonight."

"You're right, heading to bed now." I said weakly over my shoulder as I went down the hall and into my room.

I gratefully slid under the covers and rolling over onto my side wondered if it was guilt or exhaustion causing me to be unable to keep my work out of my head to the point I was confusing my own son with some idiotic porn premise.

My eyes fell on the picture of John and I on the day of our wedding. I was wearing white, god talk about ballsy. I focused on his face and as I had every night for the last few months whispered, “I'm sorry, baby.”

“Holy shit, Mary." Dan whistled, "You asked him if he took your stockings?" “That's what I said." I grinned ruefully, “I totally over reacted."

I'll say." He agreed and picking up his mug, took a sip of coffee, before cutting into his fourth pancake.

“Damn these are good!" he laughed, “You're a woman of many talents!"

“True, but usually if you're good at sex, cooking is irrelevant."

“Not if you're with an Italian guy, they might prefer the food." he winked, "I know. My damn father and uncles used to roll their eyes over meatballs like they were getting a BJ. Me? You can feed me canned Tuna, I want the BJ."

I laughed and sitting back in my chair, sipped at my tea. It had been a nice morning. I'd gotten up at seven when I heard Paul heading downstairs to go running and when he came back, I was downstairs making his favorite, chocolate chip pancakes.

I hadn't made them in weeks and Paul's eyes lit up like it was Christmas day and after giving me a huge bear hug, dove into a stack of them like he hadn't eaten in days. I'd sat across from him, eating one pancake to his four as he chatted away about trying out for the track team and his classes.

I'd had one bad thought, thinking this was what being a mom was about, making her son breakfast, then recalled a scene I'd sat through, while awaiting my own. Julie May, a fifty year old brunette bombshell paraded around the kitchen set, in a robe that showed her ass cheeks and ended up with her ‘son' eating her out on the kitchen table. No scenario remained unturned in these things.

But that thought passed quickly, especially being that I was in about as un sexy of an outfit as one could imagine, a pair of SpongeBob pajama pants, slippers and a loose fitting Ozzy T-shirt, my hair pulled up in a clip and no makeup. The real Molly Minx ladies and gentlemen.

Paul's going on about school led to his job at the bookstore and as he was discussing all things Paul, I saw the perfect chance to ask why he hadn't been dating anyone. I was waiting for him to finish up a story about a rude customer and was going to bring up his lack of female company, but that's when Dan showed up.

It was bad timing, but Paul was excited to see him and seeing we were just about done eating, I'd gotten up and made Dan some pancakes while Paul rambled on to Dan pretty much everything he'd said to me.