"So old? I've got ten years on you." He poured the juice into a tall glass and looked up to smile at her. Dimples. Deep slashing dimples indented his lean cheeks. The shape of his face was almost square, his features more rugged than handsome and his smile the warmest she had ever seen. She suddenly felt as if she had been enfolded in a magical fleecy blanket, gossamer light yet capable of generating sunlight and tenderness and… His gaze held her own as he walked toward her with lithe, vital grace. "You look younger."

"Do I?" She didn't feel young. She felt a million years old and suddenly so weary she had to keep her spine very straight to keep from falling off the chair.

He nodded and there was a flicker of understanding in his face, almost as if he had read her thoughts. "You'll feel young again, you know," he said gently. "Maybe you'll never be a child again, that's probably gone forever, but youth remains.

Sometimes we have to work to keep it alive in us, but it's important we never lose a sense of youth and joy." He grinned and the creases deepened around his eyes and in the long dimples on each side of his mouth. "Personally, I intend to still be a kid when I am a hundred and two."

"I think you'll make it," she said softly.

"I'm sure I will." He set the glass of orange juice down in front of her. "And so will you. Now, drink. You'll need your vitamins if you want to survive and stay healthy." His gaze met hers. "And you do want to survive. Life can be damn good, and you can solve any problem if you just face up to it." He reached down and patted the dog's head. "Ask Frank here. He's a prime example."