I hear soft music in the house that my wife of seven years always loved. I think only for a moment rather or not to grab a beer. But I deny myself the...pleasure.I want to call out for my wife but I stop myself and began to search for her, kicking off my loafers off in the living room to better silence my steps. I walk about the down stairs checking the spare room and down stairs bath. Then I make the short climb up the stairs and begin to check the other spare room. The one we hope to fill with. Mrs. Wilson, I called out, Im done. I got no response. The back door led directly into the kitchen. She was not there nor in the living room or dinning room. I wasnt about to go up stairs until she called out. Jeff. Im upstairs you can come up. Still breathing hard and in the back of my mind thinking I needed a self propelled lawn mower I mounted the stairs and came to her door. Was I nave? No. I reasoned shed be still in her bikini though and even as I moaned my thoughts occasionally drifted. More

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