This time it didn't bother Robby to see her in it."I'm done." he said. "We can paint now."She got up and stretched. The robe was tied tightly, but her...breasts thrust out, pushing the silk toward him. "What did you write your poem about?" she asked, as she began walking toward the studio."The woman." he said.She stopped and turned around. "The woman who ... you think about when we paint?" She was looking at him through lowered lashes."Yes." he answered."I think I'd like to hear that poem. Would. Donald asks what she is thinking.Emma tells him that the lower branches are not that high up, and she has never climbed a tree or even sat on a branch. Donald chuckles a little and tells her they will resolve that right away. Lifting her up, over his shoulders to place her on the branch of the pecan tree.Emma giggles with delight, here she is a forty-plus woman sitting in a tree for the first time. She feels so free and happy.And then something overcomes her.Emma leans back and dangles by. More

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