Eager to trace Mom’s form again but this time more closely and slowly; and afraid of letting my excitement show sufficiently for Mom to notice and c...nsequently suffering her disdain. Still, my fear couldn’t overcome my desire to touch my mother.I had just hung up my jacket and taken my shoes off when Mom appeared in the kitchen doorway wearing a short sweater that showed about an inch of bare midriff and a pair of faded jeans that were loose on her legs, snug over her hips, but left a gap. This dress clung to her like a second skin, and I knew without being told that her high heels were the only other things she was wearing tonight."What's going on? Why'd you ask me to meet you here before dinner." she asked coming over to the blanket I had spread in the empty room."Well we had such a great time when we were last here." I said and handed her a glass of Champagne. Abby likes to go looking at old New Orleans homes. She gets so excited telling me how she would decorate them to. More

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