"It's not you, Darla. It's me."She walked up to him, stood inches from him, and looked up into his eyes. He wanted to take her in his arms and kiss he... so much he could taste her lips on his. He felt dizzy. Her fragrances wafted to his nostrils. A hint of perfume, soap, toothpaste, shampoo, all dominated by her scent, a fragrance named Darla."What about you?" she said.He said nothing."Tell me if I'm wrong," she said. "When Pops met my mother, he made an idiotic assumption. He was poor, poorer. "What's the matter?" my husband said."I'm afraid. What if that's not what the guy wants, and he causes a commotion?"My husband leaned over and whispered, "Trust me, it's what he wants, or he wouldn't have sat next to you."I still wasn't convinced. If anything, I was more nervous than before. I was breaking out in a cold sweat.'I want to do it,' I told myself, but my hand wasn't listening to me. It rested in my lap, quivering like a bowl of jello."If you don't do something quick, the guy's going. More

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