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They can’t get away the instant the parents are distracted. However, Alice was unusually communicative with her mum and so it proved on this occasion. ‘Mum,’ Alice looked straight ahead, she was driving. ‘Yes.’ ‘About Harry, I reckon he was a bit more smitten with me than I first thought.’ ‘Of course he was. You’re young, smart, gorgeous, you like him, you’re available, and it seems, enthusiastic. He on the other hand is a typical young heterosexual male, which by definition means that he is a galloping mass of hormones, which in turn are telling him that you tick every box that counts, bar one’ ‘Oh, I thought that he might be falling just a teeny bit in love with me, you see he wasn’t just having sex he, was making love to me and I just felt so special… she tailed off…anyway what do you mean, ‘bar one?’ ‘You are no longer there Alice. Harry is a very nice young man but the instant some reasonably attractive alternative ticks the availability box you will be just a happy memory.’. ”Dave slid off his shorts and t-shirt and lay on the table on his stomach. Sasha covered his butt with a warm towel, and talked softly about the spiritual qualities that a massage can inspire in the body. Her voice was melodious and serene and ... the voice of an angel. Dave shut his eyes as she instructed and just listened to her voice as she spoke softly about love, faith, spiritual intimacy and openness, letting go, spiritual healing and balance, and then intention and manifestation.As Sasha talked, Dave became aware of an unidentifiable but subtle aroma in the room. Sasha’s strong hands then started to rub warm oils into his skin, touching the muscles on his back, his legs, calves, and buttocks. Her touch was strong and her voice never faltered in what she wanted him to hear.Dave found himself drifting in and out of some other universe – some alternate reality. Sasha started on Dave’s front after she had him turn over. The same strength and sensitivity she’d shown him earlier was.
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And I’ll bet Grace knew back there on Main Street when she smiled. She probably even knew it when she saw me avert my eyes and scoot by her at the grocery store. It didn’t hit me until I saw her in the free clinic the other day when it was my turn to take old Mrs. Wilkins in for her blood test. She’d been there, sitting patiently in the waiting room. We exchanged looks a couple of times while Mrs. Wilkins was back getting her blood drawn, and finally Grace worked up the courage to voice a tentative, ‘Celeste? You are Celeste Murray, aren’t you?’ And then it all flooded back to me. Of course this woman was familiar, we’d worked in the same office for nearly four months. We’d gone to lunch together on more than one occasion. This was Grace what’s her name, Grace Jordon. I must have been in shock, because I didn’t respond immediately, upon which Grace seemed to shrink back into her chair. She probably didn’t know why she had taken that last swing at the social barrier that had been.

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