And it’s not that I didn’t know birth control existed; I did. I just didn’t know how to ask for it. Every time I confessed my sexual activity to her, I hoped she would offer to get me the pill, buy me condoms, and teach me about safe sex with both girls and boys. I wanted her to teach me how to be assertive and insist protection be used. But she never did.

I get home and I see that my mom is sitting on the couch. Her face was all red, and I could tell that something really bad happened. It looked like she was crying for a long time. The collection of old houses, trailers and newly aluminum-sided buildings straddled both sides of Highway 104. Kenny stretched, then turned on his side. His memories were like a movie reel. The best part was yet to come. Right now the stars were bright, their luminous eyes keeping him company. He could see the Big Dipper or ‘Ursa Major’ as he learned in school.

His eyes took in the pennant from Halifax and pictures of he and mom. Also himself and his buddy Troy, taken at Boy Scout Summer Camp last year. He noticed Larry's peaked hat, with the perch fish on its front. Red vest, blue shirt, worn jeans and bare feet completed the picture. Larry's paddle was ready for action. And his eyes seemed at peace with himself. They were always full of laughter.

Fast forward three years later and I have to say that I am in love with Bijou, our golden retriever. Let me tell you why. This creature has brought so much love and happiness into our home. I’ve become one of “those people” that can’t imagine life without this family member. Dogs seem to know what people need at just the right time. When my 8 year old wants to run in the dogpark with abandon…Bijou runs with her. When my husband has been at his home office desk for 16 hours working non-stop, Bijou comes up to him, puts her head on his lap and forces him to take a much needed break. When my teenager, filled with all the angst and emotion that comes with this turbulent time, needs a friend to “talk to”, Bijou snuggles with her in her bed and listens to all the injustices that high school provides. Same, baby girl. I can’t wait, either. I wonder if it’ll be a boy… or if I’ll have four daughters, now?’ Over the following four years, Kate continued having her stepson’s children, dutifully squeezing out every single one he put in her. There would be no abortions. There would be no protection. Kate gave birth to a girl. Then another one. Then a third. Then, finally, a boy.

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She offered me some Vodka and I accepted, as I go crazy for that stuff. I love Vodka and I really just wanted to help her out. The last thing I wanted to do is refuse something from her and then have her start crying again. I had about seven shots and I started to get a little tipsy when she put her arm on me. Now usually I just push away as I hate the ‘mushy’ stuff from my mom. She always wants to spend time with me and touch me in a ‘mom – son’ way. Just love for your child I suppose but this time, I just accepted it I was really too drunk to care. The first time they had met was last year when Kenny began a paper route. Kenny had marched up the front steps. "Would you like to take the weekly? He had asked. "I guarantee good service, how about it?" By this point, I was completely confused, even more so for a drunk. I didn’t have the slightest clue what was going on. But despite her trust in me, she also failed me. She never talked to me about safe sex. I don’t know why. Perhaps she intended to but didn’t know how, or maybe she trusted I was getting accurate information somewhere else. She never once mentioned birth control or condoms; she just vaguely mentioned staying safe a few times.