. "Here, uncle Jason -- let me sit on your lap." I somehow had known it was coming. The lap was ready.Denise grinned across at her daughter and me, as...Lissa perched a little awkwardly on my knee. "Don't harass your uncle, hun," Denise said, gently.Lissa twisted around, smelling delicious, so close, looking me in the eye. "I'm not harassing you, am I?" No Lissa. You're fine."This lasted a few minutes, until Lissa volunteered to buy her mom something to drink. Denise said sure, and ordered an. "Sit," she said, pointing to the only chair. "I'll get us something."She put down her bundle, opened a cupboard and produced a bottle and two dirty glass. She wiped the glasses out with her shawl, splashed whisky into them and handed me one. She gulped hers and I sipped mine. It was awful, raw stuff not even fit to call white lightening but probably sold as rye.She sat on her unmade, swaybacked bed and looked at me, the empty glass between her knees. She dumped the shawl behind her and fluffed. More

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