Her blond hair fell about her as she rose, rippling down her spine like platinum snakes of tangled silk. She padded to the kitchen, yawning wide, tawn... skin bare and beautiful without a thread of clothing to cover her. At the kitchen table Max sat, nude in the summer air, his french blue eyes scanning the newspaper spread before him. Delia's hand smoothed over his shoulder as she passed, headed for the ancient coffee pot that sang on the stove. She poured them both a cup, hers thick and sweet. "They're getting big," Dana said with a smile, remembering how fast her daughter had grown. "Brett had his tenth birthday two days ago and suddenly he thinks he is grown up," Mary Ellen laughed."Leslie is eight now?" Dana asked. "Yes, going on fifteen. She is quite a handful already so I don't know what I'm going to do when she becomes a teenager." I know all about it. We had a tough time with Jill at that age," Dana said, speaking of her 19-year-old daughter who was now away at college. Dana. More

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