by

 A. Jill Gaebel

 Grace and Julian were good friends.  They had many things in common, such as age.  She was seventy-five, and he was seventy-one.  They were both well read and informed and had a passion for debate. 

Julian would always stop by Grace’s house each day as he took his late morning walk.  He was nearly a fanatic about his physical and mental condition.  He often tried to shame Grace into walking with him by telling her that she would rut and stiffen if she didn’t move about more.

Elsie, Grace’s long time friend and neighbor, preferred to look upon the visits of Grace and Julian as romantic encounters in spite of Grace’s insistence that she and Julian were simply very good friends.  She enjoyed Julian’s visits and was content with the nature of their relationship.  She was also absolutely certain that Julian had the same feelings about it.  Neither of them had any desire to replace the mates that they once had.

When Grace’s husband, Luther, had died, she had grieved for his loss of life, but her grief was not that of a lost lover.  Their marriage had not been a happy one for Grace.  For most of their years together, Luther had been abusive and demanding.  Later, with age, he had mellowed, and he and Grace had lived together agreeably enough.  Grace now enjoyed her solitude and independence.  She had no desire to add complications to her life in the form of another mate.

Memories of her life with Luther were far from her mind as she opened the door to Julian’s ring of the doorbell.

“Coffee?” she asked as she led him to the living room.

“You bet,”  he answered.  “It’s a little on the cool side today.”

As he waited for her return, he again studied the room.  It was a comfortable, warm, and welcoming room.  The thickly cushioned chairs and crouch, the bright pictures, and her collection of animal figurines gave the room a casual and uncrowded compactness.  It was a room that was both calming and lively, and it was, to him, a perfect reflection of Grace.

She returned with the coffee, and he gave her his full attention.  He always enjoyed looking at her.  Pure, white hair framed a lined and fine boned face.  Her figure was slim.  Much to Elsie’s open envy Grace could eat anything without gaining weight.  Her hands were long fingered and graceful.  In spite of her efforts to hide them, he had noticed that her hands had a slight tremor.  He always surprised himself by thinking of her hands as sensual.