Harry walked up the stairs to the porch in a huff, like only an eleven-year-old boy can do. I leaned forward putting my sweat-covered glass on the wood planks. “What has your panties in a wad?” It was said in a way only a step-great grandfather could ask.

Harry stopped and considered what I had said. “Margrette said she wouldn’t...” His voice trailed off.

He had probably two years before he would be asking Margrette, currently a sweet ten-year-old, to do something she should say no to. I told the frozen boy, “Girls and women are going to be telling you no on and off for the rest of your life. So you better not get your panties in a wad every time.”

I looked back through the window at my beautiful partner. She was tending her mint plants in the window. Her eyes were squinting making the small crow’s feet more pronounced. Yet she was still gorgeous to me. Even the gray at her scalp would be turned back to the chestnut of her youth. But only when she decided the gray made her look old. I thought it made her look more radiant. Still, secure in herself after all these years she had overcome the self-doubt that came from being under the repressive thumb of an EX.