The sheets were wet with sweat. But it was a different kind of moisture that collected in a large pool on her pillow. Tears. Tears of a lifetime. Tear... of thousand mistakes. But what surprised her was that mixed sparingly among those tears of pain were a few of hope and faith as well. She had been having this dream…the exact same dream…every night since her son’s wedding over a month ago. It was probably just the sentimental rantings of an old woman. Her time was gone. She had her children. Paul, I want to go upstairs and have sex. With you.”“But ... I mean ... Why?”“Because.” She put her glass on the table and walked towards the window overlooking the back garden. Looking outside, she said, “I never got to before.”“Before?”She turned around and leaned against the wall. “Before. You know, when we were boyfriend and girlfriend.” She grinned. “You do remember that, right? I mean, going out with Clarissa didn’t wipe your memory of what went before did it?”I suppressed a shiver.“But. More

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