I remember when it started. I was 13, and my step-Mom, my Dad and I were on vacation. My own Mom had been killed by a hit-and-run driver when I was a year and a half old, so my step-Mom was the only Mom I ever knew. I liked her. She was great.
We were still three days from home when Dad and Mom had an ugly fight, and split up. After a lot of screaming and crying, they decided he’d fly and I’d ride home with Mom. We dropped Dad at an airport and