For All of Her Life by Heather Graham

tone to her mother’s voice.
    “Sure.”
    “I wish he’d moved. I can’t imagine you going back to that house... and not, and not, oh, dear, I don’t know how to say this!”
    “My old house—with Tara Hughes as hostess in it?” Kathy inquired dryly.
    “I guess that’s it,” Sally admitted.
    “Mom, I left that house, remember.”
    “And I’ll never know why!”
    “Mother—”
    “Sorry! I don’t meddle! But I do intend to be your moral support!”
    “Mom, I’m going to bring a friend. I’ll be all right.”
    “A friend. Who?”
    “Just a friend. You’ll see. And I’ll be fine. I’m delighted you’re going. I’ve got to get back to work, though, okay?”
    Her mother was silent on the other end.
    “Mother? I’m hanging up now,” she said.
    “Yes, of course, dear. I was just thinking that it might be a good idea if you were to go alone.”
    “Mom,” Kathy said very gently. “Jordan is seeing a very beautiful young woman.”
    “Such a mistake.”
    “I don’t think Jordan sees it that way.”
    “But it is a mistake. Women outlive men.”
    “Mom, Dad was quite a bit older than you.”
    “Yes, dear, I know that. I was the one married to him. And he was wonderful, wasn’t he?” she queried, her voice both light and sincere. She didn’t really want an answer—they had both loved Kathy’s father deeply. “But the point of it is, sad but true, men usually are the ones dating younger women. And women outlive men, so the natural thing would be for more women to date younger men and more men to date older women.”
    “Interesting concept, Mom. It may or may not catch on,” Kathy murmured ironically.
    “And we all know that men are at their sexual peak when they’re barely children, right around the age of eighteen. While women reach their prime in their late thirties, some even in their forties. Dear, just look at what you’re doing with your prime.”
    Kathy held the phone receiver away from her ear and stared at it as if doing so might somehow help her make sense of her mother’s very strange and taunting words.
    “Mom, I’m leading a happy life.”
    “A content life. A safe life.”
    “Mother,” she said sternly, “be that as it may, I am content, and Jordan is involved, so don’t you and the girls go around thinking you can play ‘Parent Trap’ for the reunion.”
    “Kathy, I wouldn’t dream of meddling. But it’s a shame he’s involved with that Miss Hughes. You two would be much better for one another now. You’re both past your prime.”
    “Gee, thanks, Mom.”
    “Statistics and research, dear.”
    “I don’t think Jordan considers himself past his prime, and, apparently, neither does his actress.”
    “Does that mean you consider yourself past yours?” Sally queried with sweet innocence.
    “Mother, I am hanging up now. For real!”
    “’Bye, sweetheart,” Sally said.
    “See you soon, Mom.”
    Sally chuckled softly. “Tell Jeremy, that hot date of yours, hello for me, will you?”
    “He hasn’t agreed to go yet,” Kathy admitted.
    “Tell him I insisted.”
    “I’ll try,” Kathy said. “And don’t you dare mention a word about the fact that Jeremy and I are only friends to Jordan!”
    “I wouldn’t dream of it!” Sally promised. “I’m hanging up now, dear!”
    And she did.
    The phone clicked in Kathy’s ear. Shaking her head with a wry smile, she set the receiver back into its cradle and started from her desk. She’d have Angie, her assistant, start tracking the lost manuscript, and then go right on to the art department.
    By six-thirty that evening they’d found the manuscript which had been delivered to the wrong department, and Kathy had had a satisfactory meeting with the art director, who’d decided she should talk directly to the artist, who had been charming and willing—for a price, of course—to start from the very beginning now that he clearly understood what was needed. One of Kathy’s marketing meetings hadn’t gone as