When we did, it was deeply satisfying, for us both. Laying in front of a fire had almost the same effect. Almost. Nothing can ever replace or compare to Apolo. The man’s a sexual beast. He needed to decompress from all that was going on around him. He was in urgent need of some rest and relaxation. So, going to the house in the Hamptons was the perfect solution. That is until Jacob had to interrupt us with the news that my mother had bailed my brother out. Rather, her friend, lover, whoever he is, did for her. When we returned to Washington there were no fewer than a half dozen messages waiting for us at the security desk. My phone was no better, nor was the landline Apolo had insisted we have. Trying to share her side of the story. I knew I’d have to speak with her eventually, so Monday morning, once Apolo had left for his office, I called. Getting no answer, I left a brief message and hung up. I had the feeling she was monitoring her calls because she immediately called me back. “I know why you’re calling, Mother, so let’s sift through your bull shit, and why don’t you tell me—why did you, or rather your cozy bedfellow, for lack of a better word, bail Tom out.
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