Sunday afternoon at the Weinmans'

The smell of glazed ham wafted from the kitchen into the small dining room. She could hear the sounds of her friends shuffling in the kitchen. The clang of Loretta doing the dishes. Ani telling the dog to stay out of the fridge. Brittany and Peter trying to solve the great ham dilemna-when to glaze.

She sat at the small table packed with mocha colored newlywed dinnerware and six too many beer glasses filled with water. The light from the mid-afternoon sun shone into the window and danced playfully off the water like dandelions dancing in the wind.

Ani had fashioned an apron out of a dishtowel and the belt of her worn cutoff jean shorts. Her hair was tossed out like yesterdays news. Curls fell onto her face and swayed in the breeze as she leaned gracefully over the short baby gate to grab the half and half for the mashed potatoes.

Peter leaned over from the stove and touched the small of her back as he kissed the side of her forhead. He loved her. You could just tell by the way her touched her back, like he wanted to protect her from some unseen foe.

She cherished moments like these. Her heart filled with hope that there would be many more moments like this one. Sunday afternoon at the Weinmans.