There was a carpet of fireflies on the commons in Colonial Williamsburg and ancient oak trees lined the walkway on which they strolled. In the dim evening light, Claudia appeared as vibrant as on the high school night they had first made love.
“It’s so romantic,” she said to the swirl of lights that scattered from her step. “I’m so glad we decided to come.”
Since the night Curt had led their high school football team to the regional championship, Claudia had stirred the sexual passions they shared. Their return to Williamsburg was to rouse a romance she had felt had laggard. Given their twelve childless years, it had become more than her insistence, but an urgency.
“What is it now? Seventeen years since you nabbed me to under the bleachers?” Curt asked.