Lexington Park, Maryland, Monday…

Jay had been to John and Dolores' house several times before yet had actually socialized more with them when they came up to DC, which was not infrequent, as both her friends liked theater and classical music. The Kennedy Center was not exactly Lincoln Center, although it had some very good performances. Jay would often meet them for dinner either before or after, yet she rarely went to concerts with them - her musical tastes leaned more towards Latin American folk music, especially the kind with heavy Native American influences, like the music of Bolivia, Paraguay, northern Argentina, Peru, and Ecuador, along with that from her father's native land.

She sadly walked up the four steps to the front porch and rang the bell. It was a wide porch with several comfortable wicker chairs, ideal for sipping cool drinks in the summer and just chatting. She could imagine her friends doing just that, John with his lazy drawl, not quite Southern, but certainly not Northern either, and Dolores spicing up her conversation with the Spanish obscenities and expressions that amused John.

"Come on in, Jay," Dolores greeted.

Jay gave her a hug and went inside with her.

The living room reflected Dolores' taste for simple comfort but John had also given it character with his comfortable reading chair and wall of books. He had built the bookcase that lined the entire wall, giving it the little personal touches, like cubby holes for computer magazines and special slots for their old CD collection. The floor was hardwood that John had redone only two years ago; scatter rugs marked off the conversation area from the bar and the bookcase. A long sofa and a few more straight-backed chairs invited one to sit down and talk or just listen to a classic performance of some musical piece.