“Andrews @page { margin-bottom: 5.000000pt; margin-top: 5.000000pt; } My First Son . Six days before the party, Jory and Melodie flew into a local airport. Chris and I were there to meet them with the kind of enthusiasm you saved for those you hadn't seen for years, and we'd parted less than ten days ago. Jory was immediately chagrined because Bart hadn't come along to welcome them to his fabulous new home. "He's busy in the gardens, Jory, Melodie, and asked us to give you his apologies" (althou...gh he hadn't). Both looked at me as if they knew differently. Quickly I went into details of how Bart was supervising hordes of workmen come to change our lawns into paradise, or something as near that as possible. Jory smiled to hear of such an ostentatious party; he preferred small, intimate parties where everyone knew each other. He said pleasantly enough, "Nothing new under the sun. Bart's always too busy when it comes to me and my wife." I stared up into his face so like that of my adolescent first husband, Julian, who had also been my dancing partner.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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