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Grumbling he headedfor the shower and stopped dead in his tracks. On the door to hisbathroom hang a gorgeous summer dress. One he wouldn't mind seeing onAudrey, his girlfriend. Taped to it was a post-it note. "Just think aboutit," it said. Signed with "Mom".Shaking his head he walked into his bathroom. The quick hot shower sweptout the last cobwebs in his head. Energized and ready for the day hedressed in jeans and a t-shirt and headed downstairs.As he entered the kitchen he stopped dead in his tracks. Freda Preston,the latest girlfriend of his father, sat at the dinner table. She wasreading a newspaper and was wearing his mother's favorite morning robe.Keegan's mind caught up and deciphered the clues. "Morning Mom," hegreeted her. "So you finally got lucky with Freda?"Of course, it was a rhetorical question. Still, his mother answeredcheerfully. "Sure did. I must say I like this body. And good morning son.Though I wish I could say good morning my daughter."Keegan rolled his eyes.. One day they were sitting together having coffee and Tara broached the subject. “Shannon, if you want to fit in more in the neighborhood with the other nanny’s when you see them at the park, you should really dress in a more modern style and wear some makeup too.”“Do you think that would be okay? My religion says that women should be modest and not try to attract the attention of men.”“Shannon, your parents are not here anymore and no one who lives here practices your religion. You are in American now and can do whatever you want. It is not my choice how you live. It is your choice. You are the same size as me, why don’t you try on some of my clothes? I can also show you how to put on some makeup. It is not like I am going to tell anyone from Ireland that you are adopting an American style,” she giggled.“Okay. I guess it is okay if you think it is.”“It doesn’t matter what I think, it is only about what you want to think and do.”Tara had Shannon try on some of her clothes,.
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She was relating this to me as we enjoyed our meal, and after desert she gave me an emotional look and touched my wrist. “Let’s go into the lounge for another drink.” she whispered. I wasn’t going to argue, I loved every minute of what she was telling me. She paid for the dinner, and getting our coats moved into the lounge bar. We settled into plush leather seats at a quiet table, and then after the drinks she ordered were delivered, continued her story. “I missed your daddy very much,” she went on, “There was always a glimmer of hope, that once the war was over, he would come home.” At this I could almost see the tears well up in her eyes, she hesitated for a moment before continuing. “There were quite a few women of all ages in the same position as me, who had lost their loved ones because of the war. Cindy Thompson was a friend I made who also lost her husband, we met while doing part time work for the war effort. She was a lot older than me, I was twenty three and she was in.

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