When we got home, after we put away the groceries, we went to our rooms to change into our swimsuits. I didn’t bother closing the door, and I don’... think he did either. We held hands as we went downstairs to the pool. Keith: “Damn, I have to go get the sunscreen. BRB.” Jenna: “Don’t keep me waiting,” I said seductively. “And don’t speak in web-ese.” Keith: By the time I returned with the sunscreen, Jenna had already pulled out the lounge chairs and stretched a towel on each one. I tossed her. Now, at fifty-eight, the hair had graduated to a rather chic salt-and-pepper (though admittedly more salt than pepper). The hips and derriere were decidedly larger -- post birthing of her now three adult c***dren -- and though the tummy was relatively trim, there were beachheads of cellulite she could no longer deny. Good genes and the combination of swimming and Pilates had kept the worst of gravity's effects at bay. Most mercifully of all, considering her bra size, Doris's heavy bust remained. More

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