Abbie And Terry, A Tale Of Love
After twenty years, they find each other again
Holding up the blouse, I turned to my oldest daughter as she was looking through a stack of jeans. “What do you think, Lacey?” I asked, “This one or the peach one?” Lacey looked over with a shake of her head, “The peach, Mom. That one makes your hair look blue,” she said with a playful smirk. I laughed and hung it back on the rack. Lacey was fourteen but loved to shop with me. My youngest, Brianna, or, “Sissy,” was sittin...