She glanced at herself in the mirror… at her tiny waist, her lush ripe breasts, her flaring hips and full thighs. At least she hadn't lost her figure, she thought. It was as perfect as her thirteen year old daughter's, only a little riper.
Feeling better than she had in weeks, like she was embarking on some kind of adventure, she began to sing quite loudly, pulling on her panties, her panty hose, leaning over to encase the two mounds of her breasts in her flimsy bra. She adjusted the straps and hooked it behind her, and then slipped her dress over her head. She zipped it up the back, admiring herself in the mirror. Blue was always my color, she thought, smoothing down the silky feeling skirt. Then she found her handbag and a pair of matching sandals and grabbed her car keys. This is the first time I have been out by myself in ages, she realized. I don't even have any friends. Suddenly, she felt very excited about the evening ahead. A friend at last! A woman to do things with… have dinner and talk things over with! Maybe her life would change its course tonight!
A few minutes later, she was knocking at the door of the Lowell's imposing house on the other side of the Craven campus. Arlene answered the door and invited her in.
The blonde minister's wife stepped inside, and was led into a huge living room with French doors leading to a patio surrounded by a Japanese garden. In the living room were cut flowers in silver bowls and there was a general white theme running through the room. The sofa was white, the walls were white and the only splashes of color were the flowers and the green plants that were everywhere.