Sharen and Barry are cuddled together, though off in a corner of the front window. She has her hand to the glass, saying, “Honey, let’s just forget about what I said earlier. Life is just too precious to waste it.”
Kissing her cheek, he answers, “It’s already forgotten. A secret we’ll tell our grandkids.”
She accepts his kiss but remains captive to the romance of this morning’s weather, strangely not afraid of the cracking and popping of the lightning. There is an enormous calm about what this storm is saying and she doesn’t want to miss a second of it.
“I do want children, dear,” she begins, “but what makes you think I want them?”
“Because we are so much alike it’s scary,” he says. “It’s not a proposition that I want them so you must want them. They say men die before women do and I d
