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"That's my boy! How much did you give her?"

"Twenty-five percent of my fifty. You get back the other fifty. It is truly a family business now."

"I think I'm gonna cry," dad said.

"Please do," I said. “It would make me feel like less of a loser for doing it sometimes myself.”

"What would your grandpa say about that?"

"Something stupid and retrograde, I suspect," I said.

That made dad laugh his full belly laugh that always reminded me of Santa Clause.

"It's not good to speak ill of the dead, son."

"Even when I only speak the truth?" I asked.

"Especially then," dad joked.

"Oh no!" I exclaimed in faux horror.

"Don't worry, kid. I'll keep you on the straight and narrow," dad said.

"And help the business, too," I said.

"We’ll see."

"I call poo-poo on your 'we'll see'; you've got good ideas and it is high time you got a chance to put them into action."

"It's nice someone thinks so," dad said.

I didn't think this was directed at me, but I still felt bad. I might not have given him shit back in the day, but I had sided with grandpa, tacitly supporting his point of view, back when I was too young and ignorant to see what bullshit it was.

"Hard to disagree with facts, dad. Without looking like an idiot."

"You know, traditionally, it is meant to be the parent encouraging the child. Not the other way around," dad said.

"I'm beginning to question tradition," I said

"I can't say that's a bad idea. Tradition did lead Europe into two world wars."

"Not that we should entirely dismiss the past," I said.

"No," dad agreed, "just look at it critically. Taking the good ideas and leaving the bad."

"I really should have listened to you more," I said.

"Sounds like a bit got through," dad said.

"Yeah," I said.

"It's also not too late to start," dad offered.

"Let's hope not," I said, "we'll see what happens over the next week."

"I can't wait; thanks for letting me back into the company. I know you didn't have to."

"Yes, I did."

"I’ll see you tomorrow, hey?" dad said, actually sounding like he might cry.

"Keep your stick on the ice," I said, quoting one of dad's favorite phrases.Chapter Seventeen - KoraI had always loved eggs. Anyway they could be made, I would eat them. By the plate full, if I could.

Apparently most people got sick when they ate too many eggs. Of course, "too many" is a relative concept. And I knew of no such thing, when it came to egg.

One of my favorite things in the world, along with silk panties and having my asshole pounded by Logan’s huge cock, as I had recently found out, but could no longer have so I try to forget about that, was a cheese omelet with lots of salt and ketchup. If I was ever feeling sad, or was just looking for a good start to my day, I would make myself one.

It came as a surprise, then, that while cooking what I thought to be a well-made cheese omelet, I started to lose my appetite for it. It was almost as if I hated my formerly favorite food and wanted nothing to do with it.

It came as even more of a surprise when the feeling that washed over me was not an all-consuming bliss but the overwhelming need to vomit. One of the few advantages to the tiny size of my apartment was it was a short trip from the living room, where I had the dining table, to the bathroom.

As soon as I caught my breath, I started to cry. Not just from the pain in my stomach but also from what I was pretty sure they meant. I was raised pretty sheltered, but even I knew what it meant when a woman got sick in the morning and suddenly went off her once favorite food.

I put my hands over my boobs. I couldn't imagine them getting bigger than they already were, but my mom's had. I had seen pictures of her both before and after she was pregnant with me.

There was also the issue of what the hell I was going to do to raise a baby. Particularly on my own. My dad had died a few years before and my grandma had gone before him. The only one left in my immediate family was my mom and there was no way I was going to tell her I was pregnant out of wedlock.

I was just going to have to get by on my own as well as I could. Because there was no way I was telling Logan about this, no matter how many times he tried to call me. I’d sworn to leave him alone with his mystery visitor and I didn’t want anything to change my mind about that, lest I seem pathetic and desperate.

I took a breath and tried to calm down. I didn't really know anything for sure yet. Pregnancy was a possibility for sure but there could well have been other causes for what happened. I could have caught a flu on the streets, or eaten a bad batch of eggs.

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