Part 3—Greer-Rear
What transpired after a round of strawberry-cream cheese filled muffins at Pandora’s Closet table? After many gawks and ganders at the blond Art Institute student, I was whisked away from the table. Following a long-winded tale of the young man’s Midwest history, which consisted of an underage drinking fine, numerous boy-flings, and a summer camp just for cowboys, Key whispered into my left ear, “Come with me.”
Translations in a marriage became quite easy after seventeen years of involvement with the same man. I knew when no meant yes, and I like it meant I really hate it. If he wanted to stay in for the night instead of attending one of Vince’s festive cheese and wine parties, he took a long bubble bath. If he didn’t want to have s*x, he found a chick-lit book and star
