Sheltered from the winds of change, we basked in the diminished warmth. Inside, the open kitchen, its copper pans on the wall, hummed with industry. ...Happy chitchat competed with café music. Imbued with a homely Provençal style, we loafed here for lunch.Reclining in her chair, her expression unchanged, pinched fingers opened her symbolic red jacket. The tight ivory top squeezed her breasts into enticing ovals. She chose not to wear a bra. My eyes returned and an eyebrow conveyed her. ‘My friend, Sharon, was telling me that her son wants to try out for the golf team at school but he doesn’t have a set of clubs of his own to use. Sharon is a single mother and just can’t afford to buy him a good set of clubs,’ Dee said. ‘Have they tried our store?’ I said, ‘We do sell a lot of second hand equipment. They might be able to find something he likes.’ ‘She said they haven’t had any luck finding anything in their price range.’ ‘What’s their price range?’ ‘Two hundred dollars.’ ‘Good. More

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