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We lived in a large home on the hills outside Los Angeles. My father had moved out two years ago, just after I turned 16. He and my mother still colla...orated, but now by phone, fax and e-mail. He was now living in New York and wintering in the south of France. I knew why he left but was puzzled by it. His life-style and perversions were certainly well accepted in LA, and certainly no worse than what was going on in this house and neighborhood. He had left my mother's bed when I was 14 and moved. It was more like one-thirty when the three of us declared victory in the war of the sexes and went sleep in each other’s arms.Saturday morning I was up early as usual. I was alone in the kitchen for a while and had a large urn of coffee and juices poured for everyone at the dining room table. I had just started on some French toast when Kat appeared wearing a nightshirt and barefoot. She looked like sex on a stick.I teased, “Hi, Niece. Do you want your phone?”“Hi, Unc,” she said cheerily. She. More

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