On Saturday morning, after three weeks had dragged by, Jack strayed away from his routine and checked his personal e-mail. Erin's stood out like a lig...thouse in the fog. She hadn't typed in a subject, and as he clicked the mouse to open it, he was surprised to find that he was as nervous as he had been the day he had asked Joanne Bowers to the spring dance over twenty years ago. As he began reading, he was also as relieved as he had been when Joanne had accepted his invitation.My Sweet Old. Uncomfortably, I shifted in my chair. This was the first time we had met since my exodus. Face to face was different than a quick e-mailing, more challenging and dangerous than a brief occasional phone conversation. This was real. Time had waged its war, each of us sporting its scars and spoils. Words that once carelessly flowed were now cautious and guarded. Innuendos perhaps lost in translation. ‘I’ve missed you.’ He said softly, his eyes looking through me. The pink sting I had felt earlier. More

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