"I don't remember that!" I exclaimed.She produced her phone. She showed me a picture of me wearing Layla'swedding dress. "We got married, don't you re...ember?" she said alarmed."No," I said.She flipped through pictures. Me in the gown. The two of us standing nextto each other smiling. The two of us outside an all-night wedding chapel.The two of us exchanging vows. "Any of this jog your memory?" she asked."No. It's all a blank," I said.She flipped through more pictures. Me lifting the dress. There was barely a trace of hair in her long auburn tresses and a spark of youthful fun in her bright blue eyes. Indeed, if you had not been aware that she was a mother in her forties, you could easily have pegged her for a woman over a decade younger.Her fun, friendly and, frankly, flirty manner did little to discourage people from thinking this. She certainly seemed to enjoy the way that people looked at her and was perfectly willing to dress provocatively to elicit these kinds of reactions.. More

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