She was about seventy, and as round as she was wide. It was very hard to imagine her as young woman, courting a young man, but I tried to see her that...way, while she said, "You youngsters got married way young like Harold and me. We were young like you, only I was thirteen, almost fourteen, and Harold was the baker's son."We met because my father and Harold's mother loved to 'comfort' each other, as they were both widows. My mother die in childbirth, with my brother Abraham, and Harold's mother. "Are you sure that what you want to do?"Angie jumped up from the lounge. No, it wasn't. "Yeah, I haven't had a chance to see it yet."Frank sighed, resigned. "All right, let me get changed."They went inside and Angie locked her door while changing into a pair of overalls and a little sleeveless cropped sweater. She brushed out her hair and went downstairs to wait for Frank.Frank came bounding downstairs in shorts and a tank top and showed Angie to his jeep. With the wind whipping through her. More

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