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She stole one more quick glance, an image flashed in her head, left and then came back to settle in her minds eye.She was sixteen again, staring up the long driveway to her family home which sat back from the road. Behind her she heard the school bus pull away that she had just stepped from. She began to walk towards the house, the sun warmed her and a cool spring breeze licked at her cheeks.She walked up the stairs that lead to the front door of the house. A bird which had been sitting on the white railing of the wrap around porch that surrounded the house flew away. Mary stopped at the top stairs, and bent down just enough to gently touch and smell the purple pansies that were residing in the pot where the railing met the stairs. She, with her mother’s help, had planted them and now the beautiful spring weather had graced them with life.Mary lifted the lid on the top of the black mailbox and fished the key from the bottom. She withdrew it from the mailbox and unlocked the front. Barbara was unusually quiet and pensive. She looked out the window at the streetlights, arms crossed over her chest, not talking at all. I left her alone, knowing that she would eventually say what was on her mind. As we crossed over the river, she turned toward me and said, ‘Are you attracted to younger women?’ I glanced at her lovely, intense face and said, ‘Yes, of course. Sometimes.’ She looked back out the window. ‘Why?’ she asked, simply. ‘Well,’ I said, turning right onto an arterial, ‘young women can be very beautiful. Not all of them are, of course, but youth is a great advantage. Most young people, both female and male, are attractive. It’s why the species continues.’ ‘I saw you with that girl tonight. I am not jealous. You know my principles.’ ‘What girl?’ ‘The tall blonde with the large breasts.’ I thought for a moment. ‘Emily Reese. She’s the Dean’s daughter.’ ‘She liked you. I could tell. It was how she looked at you. She looked at you how I look at you.’ ‘Is this where.
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