Their hands touched on occasion as they reached for things as they prepared their meal. He laughed as she talked about growing up in California and ho... everything was so different there in New York. He walked around the butchers' block in her kitchen grabbing plates and bowls to set out for serving. The smell of her freshly washed hair dove him crazy. He gently put his head on her shoulder and his hand around her waist as he maneuvered by her. She gently moved her neck to the side and invited. I reached up with my right hand and tenderly pushed her hair back from over her eye. When I did, I let the palm of my hand rest on the side of her forehead. Normally, that would have caused an immediate scold that I was messing her hair, but she said nothing. She leaned forward slightly to push her forehead into my hand."Can I kiss you, Mom?," I asked, softly. I moved my hand around behind her head, and she leaned into me, keeping her eyes on mine.This was a test, I figured. If I dove in with. More

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