Forty years, she couldn't believe it. She sat on her old sofa looking at an old yellow envelope. Big red letters etched Confidential across the top. She scanned through pictures bringing memories flying through her mind. A tear escaped from the old worn face. It traced its way through wrinkles to her chin before falling away from the face. Quickly wiping the trail away she closed the envelope. She stood up slowly brushing away the wrinkles from a faded red dress. She walked over to a mirror that hung on the wall next to many newspaper articles dating all the way back to 1943. She pushed a lose hair back into her waves and bun and smiled. Pulling a purse out she grabbed a bright tube of lipstick. Putting it on she smiled. She then went into her small kitchen and laid out an old lace tablecloth and placed one silver candlestick in the middle. Putting two wine glasses on the table she scooted over to an old record player and placed in one of her favorites. Listening to the Andrew sisters she filled the two glasses of wine and lit the candle. Turning off the light she sat at the table and looked out of her small window at the sun that was falling behind the trees. Pulling out a picture cracked and torn she put it in front of the candle. She looked at the young face that smiled at her. A red, white, and blue hatted man's portrait glistened in the candlelight. Soon the sun had departed and the old women sat in her house alone with her memories. She raised her arm and looked at the time. Another tear came but she didn't wipe it away and let others come forth as well. And as she whispered three words she smiled as a wisp of the past came forth and stood behind her. Placing a ghostly hand on her shoulder the young man smiled. She looked up at her memory and repeated the same three words. "Your late, Steve."