I want to see me as I was when I was twenty and fresh and had four fewer children and two fewer husbands. I need someone to Photoshop me, not paint me...”“Well, let’s go back a bit,” I suggested. “Let’s say you’ve never seen me—in other words, like five minutes ago. How did you imagine me?”“I imagined you had a beard,” she began. “I thought you would have long, narrow hands and an angular face. I thought you might have long hair, probably pulled back in a ponytail. You were taller.”“Were you. ” “What do you mean?” I asked. “What would be worse, darling, is that she might not do any of those things. She may not, because she wants to care for you darling, and so deny herself a life, until it’s too late.” “It was those last words that thundered home sweetheart. I still had some resistance, until Granny Jones came in with the chocolate éclair hand from the left, and then I knew I was a lost woman.” Melissa couldn’t tell which bits were serious, but she couldn’t mock any of it.. More

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