Her lithe lean body rippled sensuously as she floated over the ground. Her tan skin shimmered with a light sheen of sweat; every curve and sweep of her muscles glinting in the dim light.I was grateful when she answered, as it gave me an excuse to continue soaking in the vision of her. “I am the same. But my running is not so flat.” She said, glancing at me with those startlingly blue eyes.Even without the nervousness that had plagued me until recently, I felt my chest constrict with those eyes on me. Looking away to save myself from any relapse into old Jake, I gestured to point out our next turn; grateful for the distraction.I increased my pace as we neared the halfway point where we could take a water break. Even without knowing a break was coming, she easily remained at my side. I was impressed. Running was not, by any means, my strongest part of triathloning, but I had worked hard to at least limit it as a liability. She matched me step for step, and it occurred to me. I jumped up andquickly slipped my arms into Aunt Laura?s satin dressing gown. Iconsidered not answering it but whoever was there would see that thelights were on and hear the television. I hoped it was a delivery andwhoever it was wouldn?t want to enter the house. I thought I couldhide behind the door when I opened it and not reveal what I wore.Squinting through the spy-hole I saw a woman standing on the doorstepholding a large leather handbag.My heart sank as I recognized her as one of the women who had attendedLaura?s burial and it would be rude not to invite her in. I didn?tknow her name. She was a very striking woman being at least six feettall and powerfully built with no spare fat. Her Payne?s grey hair waspulled back into a severe bun and held in place with wicked lookingpins. Her eyes were heavily made up and her lips were painted a shadeof purple.I had omitted to put the chain on the door so that when I undid thelatch, it was immediately pushed open and the woman barged.
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