I couldn’t resist anymore. He had mentioned to me a few times that he had an urge to make love to me, but that he respected my feelings enough not t... pursue it. I had felt the urge too, but I had always managed not to succumb to it. Somehow, this day felt different, though I didn’t realize why. He started to make small, subtle advances and I barely noticed. Or maybe I didn’t want to notice. The wet kisses passed unnoticed. He mentioned again that he had been thinking a lot about making love to. Once that wassorted, they went downstairs for breakfast.The weather was sunny as hoped, and so they headed to the beach withbuckets, spades and wearing swimming clothes under their normal clothes.As they were early, they didn't have trouble finding a spot.James was interested in burying Michael but never got the chance. He hadstarted on the hole but Emma and Michael, sensing his intention, pushedhim instead and he found himself buried with just his head poking out."This isn't how it was. And I’ll call on Viviane.”“Who’s Viviane? I don’t think I ever met her.”“Well, no. Though she was probably watching when Naomi and Rebecca were born. She’s also called Bebinn in Ireland, Lucina in Italy, Hathor in Egypt, and many other names elsewhere. She’s the Goddess of childbirth. My Mam will help. You know my due date is the twenty-ninth. If she doesn’t come along on the twenty-first, I’ll go to the hospital, okay?”“Well, okay. I suppose. IF your mother will come, and IF you promise to. “Alright, so I’m going to guess that since I know what everything else here is, then I’m guessing sfogiyatella is the name of the pastry?”He smiled, “You are correct my dear. It’s Italian, usually served with coffee, but I find that warm, it goes quite well with a little powdered sugar and fruit.”“Mmm, well it looks very exotic,” she replied.“If you would indulge me for a moment, the word sfogliatella actually means lobster, and it was said,” he continued, “That the pastry was created by a chef.