I’ll pick you up at your office say, 1 P.M.?” “No, maybe, well, yes,” I mumbled. You bent over me and we kissed, our lips barely touched but I...was nothing but lips, my lips on yours. “I’m sorry, I’ll have to go, there’s an orchestra waiting for me.” You walked away, almost danced, made one-and-a–half turn, rushed back, put something in my hand and closed my fingers around it. “A little something for you, it was gathering dust in my cupboard for the last twenty-five years or so,” and you danced. Her eyes were brown flecked with green. Hazel was a typical Midwestern country girl. She hadbeen born with platinum blond hair that has progressivelygotten darker. During the summers her hair would get lighterstreaks in it. She had gotten an early start on summer andalready had tan lines on her bottom and breasts. Like so manygirls in their early teens she had a look of being all legs. The three of them had just graduated from the sixth gradeand were looking forward to going to the junior. More

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