I was twenty-two. I had no real understanding of that emotion, but I want to go slowly enough for the reader to know that I honor her and remember her...with more and more affection as the tale unrolls. I thought I would never forget her, and indeed, fifty years later, I haven't. Her blouse was fully open now, though still around her shoulders. "Tom, can you take this thing off? It's sweltering out here. " We opened the car doors, and the light streamed in, her blouse was tucked into her jeans. If dancing with her was anything like dancing with Mom, I was sure the night would end with me in her pants.Mom helped me pick out a nice outfit and told me how handsome I looked.I confessed my nervousness to her, and she very motherly hugged me and said I would do just fine.She wasn't that far off. The dance went smoothly. Minus the part where the chaperones would make sure we kept a safe distance from each other. Mom forgot to tell me about that crap. I mean. How could I ever woo her into my. More

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