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And please call me Kristen, I’m not your teacher,” she replied in a very uplifting tone. You could tell she was a nice person she had a very bubbly personality and was quite down to earth. “Shall we get started? Grab a chair and sit down at the table. I’ll just grab a glass of water for us both” “Sure thing, Kristen; that would be great,” I replied, acknowledging her act of kindness as I took a seat at the beautiful wooden table. Kristen took the chair adjacent to me, turned to put down the two glasses of water and turned to face me. “So, Miss Cummings tells me you are having a little bit of trouble with essay writing, Jason. Correct? What is it that you struggle with?” she asked, swiftly passing her hand on my knee. “Um…” I stutter as I try not to make it apparent that I’m checking her out as she sits in front of me. She leaned forward a little bit, with one leg crossed over the other. “Well mainly the…everything.” I was so mesmerized I could barely talk coherently and began to. I can recall their laughter as I lay in my bed at night. Lila would often comment that I was getting more and more like my father and mum would give me a long hard look and say “yes I suppose he is”. When I was about 13 my mum started to let me grow my hair, rather than the short shorn look I had always had. My hair went from being straight and blonde to, at first wavy then curly and darkened in the process too over a period of time.(I think it all happened as I went through puberty?). At about 17 mum brought a man friend home, he was her boss and seemed quite a nice chap. He’d been living and working in Hong Kong for a number of years but upon the death of his wife he’d moved back home and stated a new business here. He came home a few times and after a couple of months mum told me that they were getting married. What she didn’t tell me was that he also had a daughter, more of which later. The wedding was not a grand affair but nice. I was chosen to be best man and Lila was maid.
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