“You brought me flowers again.”
“My daddy brings my mama flowers once or twice a week,
and I figured out it’s because they make her smile, just like you are now.”
The Witness
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https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=1597861
Rekindling the Spark in a Long-Term Marriage
People tend to work very hard to get into that “once-in-a-lifetime” relationship. The honeymoon phase of courting and dating requires great effort to let the other know that she is special, that he is “the one.”
Falling in love with your partner for the first time is all-consuming. Maintaining the love and affection once a relationship is well-established also requires effort.
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He heard the click of heels on wood—quick, brisk, female. And when he turned, nearly bobbled the second cup of coffee.
“Wow,” he managed. “What’s up with you?”
“Oh. Well. Just . . . nothing really.”
She blushed. He didn’t know mothers could blush. And apparently he’d forgotten how beautiful his own mother was.
Her hair was swept around her face, and her lips and cheeks were attractively rosy. But the dress was the killer. Midnight blue and sleek, it was short enough to show off terrific legs, scooped low enough at the bodice to give more than a hint of cleavage, and snug enough in between to show off curves he wasn’t entirely comfortable thinking about his mother having.
“You hang around the house like this very often?”
Her color still high, she tugged self-consciously at the skirt. “I’m going out shortly. Is that coffee for me? Let me get you some cookies.”
She hurried to the counter to pick up a clear glass jar.
“Where are you going?”
“I have a date.”
“A what?”
“A date.” Flustered, she circled cookies on a plate, just as she had when he’d come home from school. “I’m going out to dinner.”
“Oh.” A date? Going out to dinner with some guy? Dressed like . . . barely dressed at all.
She set the plate down, lifted her chin. “With your father.”
“Excuse me?”
“I said I have a dinner date with your father.”
He sat down. “You and Dad are . . .dating ?”
“I didn’t say we were dating, I said we had a date for dinner. Just dinner. Just a casual dinner.”
“There’s nothing casual about that dress.” Shock was slowly making room for amusement, and trailing just behind was a nice warm pleasure. “His eyes are going to pop right out of his head when he gets a load of you.”
Birthright
“Wow,” he managed. “What’s up with you?”
“Oh. Well. Just . . . nothing really.”
She blushed. He didn’t know mothers could blush. And apparently he’d forgotten how beautiful his own mother was.
Her hair was swept around her face, and her lips and cheeks were attractively rosy. But the dress was the killer. Midnight blue and sleek, it was short enough to show off terrific legs, scooped low enough at the bodice to give more than a hint of cleavage, and snug enough in between to show off curves he wasn’t entirely comfortable thinking about his mother having.
“You hang around the house like this very often?”
Her color still high, she tugged self-consciously at the skirt. “I’m going out shortly. Is that coffee for me? Let me get you some cookies.”
She hurried to the counter to pick up a clear glass jar.
“Where are you going?”
“I have a date.”
“A what?”
“A date.” Flustered, she circled cookies on a plate, just as she had when he’d come home from school. “I’m going out to dinner.”
“Oh.” A date? Going out to dinner with some guy? Dressed like . . . barely dressed at all.
She set the plate down, lifted her chin. “With your father.”
“Excuse me?”
“I said I have a dinner date with your father.”
He sat down. “You and Dad are . . .dating ?”
“I didn’t say we were dating, I said we had a date for dinner. Just dinner. Just a casual dinner.”
“There’s nothing casual about that dress.” Shock was slowly making room for amusement, and trailing just behind was a nice warm pleasure. “His eyes are going to pop right out of his head when he gets a load of you.”
Birthright