I'm really trying not to look, but this cold spring has clad these long, soft legs in thick tights. This is Seattle, after all, and it's not so cold t...at she wore pants, or even a thick skirt. It may be long, but the diaphanous fabric spills over her seated hips. The hem of the skirt is caught on one folded knee.Her husband is with her, and I wonder how many times my eye can sweep the room for an inadvertent look at her legs before he notices. She knows I'm agitated. A look at my phone affords. ." Coleman Road," Grace said."Coleman Road? Anyway, I — you what?"Her body seemed to sag as she listened to her mother talk."Yeah, sure, but I —"She listened some more."John had a..."Claire looked down at Grace."He had somebody else with him when he came home."Yeah, Look, I know you never liked him. Oh, you did not. And you were right. So when will you guys be home?"The fifth? Are you serious?"Okay. No, I have an audition on the third. I'll see you guys in a while."No, no. I'll be fine. As soon. How could I not?’ ‘I don’t know but I’m sure glad you do,’ he tilts her face to his, bent his head and kisses her. When the kiss broke, he smiles his crooked smile at her. ‘Merry Christmas, Gen.’ ‘Merry Christmas, Mark,’ She smiles back at him. Grinning, he says, ‘I have one more thing to ask you.’ Fumbling in his pocket, he pulls out a small black box. Opening it, he holds it out to her, ‘Will you marry me?’ Tears flow again as she whispers, ‘Yes.’ ‘What was that? I couldn’t hear you,’ he. The top was similar. It had two transparent patches that showed her tits and was tied by strings around her neck and back. She was pretty much naked. Joan would go to the beach and preen for the surfers. At dinner she would whisper about the surfers and their bulging swim suits. She would have gone naked and fucked them all on the beach if she could. My work consumed me for the next few days. On Friday all the business people rushed home. Joan and I stayed. The surfers had arranged a beach.