"I raised my eyebrows. Although the young woman had gone back to her book, I saw that one graceful hand now rested on top of the desk, toward us. As I...watched, her forefinger extended, and then crooked, in one slow, obvious beckoning motion. For an instant her grey eyes looked up from the book and sparkled at me. I rose and walked to her.I stood behind her, looking down at the top of her head, the shoulders of her jacket, her lap disappearing under the desk. She didn't look up. Her hand moved. Mrs. Jones was so nice to her always calling her before bedtime to make sure she was safe and always trying to find her a "nice" young man to go out with. Mrs. Jones was her best friend these days.As I was saying, he came into her life one day unexpectedly. He was from a big city in the north and moved down south because of his job as a restaurant manager. He had been married for five years and had a two year old daughter. She didn't know all of this of course, at first.He came to talk to her. More

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