Nostalgic

Sliding a hand around Deborah's waist, Nailah stroked
over the rounded buttocks outlined by the silky material.
"You will tell me if any man does not treat you properly,"
she said wistfully.

"I prefer him to be improper, my dear," Deborah laughed,
stepping out of the other woman's caress gently.

She slipped around the pillars to the exit. Once outside,
Deborah picked up her skirts and ran over the immaculate lawn.
As Nailah had said, it was misting, and her clothes were soon
clinging to her skin. But Deborah knew the soft, warm rain that
nourished the Garden nightly would disappear as soon as the sun
rose over the eastern shoreline, just as she knew her beloved David
would be watching the slow dawning high on the balcony of his greenhouse.

Deborah heard the pre-dawn stirring of animals and birds as she
skirted the Wisteria Arbor leading to the Oak Forest. She ran
lightly up the shallow steps to the greenhouse, then slowed her
pace to catch her breath. Pulling open the door, Deborah inhaled
deeply of the lush scents that suddenly engulfed her. Ahead of her
she could see the dim glow of the water garden and reflecting pool,
one of her favorite spots. But she directed her steps to the nearest
spiral staircase that wound upward in graceful swirls of iron to the
delicate aerie of glass and white metal of the angled roof.

Halfway along the balcony walkway a man stood casually relaxed,
his hands shoved into the pockets of his loose trousers and the
collar of his shirt unbuttoned in the warm air. Although she moved
quietly, David heard her approach and smiled toward her, reaching
out his right arm to pull her against his side. Deborah wound her
arms around his waist, leaning into the curve of his arm, and rested
her cheek against his shoulder. "You left without me this morning,"
she chided.

"But you were sleeping so peacefully, my love."

"I never sleep peacefully without you!"