"You heard me. Here. Right here." She pointed.

"Here? Are you sure?"

"Here." Grandma Vic was adamant.

With a sigh, Jenna shrugged the strap of her purse higher on her shoulder as she steered the wheelchair up the mall ramp and turned towards the store Grandma indicated. But she paused at the entrance.

"Grandma, you do understand what they sell here, don't you?"

"I'm neither blind nor stupid, dear. And, contrary to what you might be thinking, I still have all my marbles. I know exactly what I'm doing." Victoria - Grandma Vic - took a deep, audible breath, cocked her silvered head even higher, and ordered, "Now, push me in."

Jenna shook her head in dismay. In all the years she'd cared for her grandparents, run their errands, and taken them on excursions, nothing had prepared her for this demand. Nothing. It was downright embarrassing. Grandma Vic was asking too much of her this time. What would people think? What if they saw someone they knew? This was . . . awkward.

She sighed again then wheeled her stubborn grandma right into . . . Fredrick's of Hollywood. But Jenna stalled just inside the door, her own jaw was dragging the floor.

While her arms hung limp at her sides, Jenna absorbed the displays of intimate apparel. She hadn't been in Frederick's in a few years herself. A lot had changed. A lot. Everything was skimpier. More transparent. More daring. Why, some might even call it obscene! She should never have agreed to escort an elderly .

It was several moments before she realized that Grandma Vic had impatiently self-propelled the wheelchair to a mannequin. She studied the risqué lingerie.

"Hmmph. That's the new-fangled underwear? Why, I've got bandaids that cover more," Grandma Vic tsked with an ornery grin into Jenna's stunned face. "I want to see it all - everything in the store."

"Grandma Vic . . . " Jenna was amazed to find a blush staining her own thirty-three-year-old cheeks.

"All of it, dear."

Row after sexy row, rack after sensuous rack, the two toured the store with Grandma delivering more spicy one-liners than a standup comic.

"You say it's called a 'thong?' How odd. We used to wear those on our feet!"

"They're bustiers? They look as painful as my mother's corset. Of course, hers didn't come in leather . . . or leopard skin."

"Why would they call it a teddy? The trim doesn't look like bear fur to me."

"Flavored lotions and edible undies? Why don't they just print up a menu?"

Jenna flinched. Customers grinned. Sales clerks eyed them doubtfully. At last, Jenna leaned into Grandma's face and looked her squarely in the eyes. "Now, are you ready to tell me what this is all about?"

"Jenna, you've always been so good to tend to our needs. Shopping, chauffeuring, even putting up the Christmas tree so we can celebrate the holidays. You're the only one in the family I could trust with this errand."

Grandma's chin sank a little further onto her ample bosom and she sighed. After a thoughtful silence, she spoke low and falteringly into her lap.

"Our sixty-fifth wedding anniversary is just around the corner. I want to surprise your grampa. For just a few hours, I want to be young and whole again. Or, at least, look that way. For Grampa. For . . . me."

Grandma glanced up with new determination. "I might be old and . . . broken . . . but I'm not dead. I need a new nightie, something . . . suggestive . . . and I want to buy it here. At Frederick's."

Jenna bit her lip. Not in vexation. Not in embarrassment. Certainly not to stifle a giggle. She bit her lip to prevent it from trembling and hinting at the tears that threatened. "Why, you old romantic!" She hugged Grandma. "I guess it's never too late to re-invent love."

Without hesitation, Jenna pushed the chrome wheelchair to a display of naughty nightwear and watched a pair of aged, corded hands lovingly caress diaphanous baby-dolls, sheer chemises, and velvet camisoles.

"This one." Grandma's dove-gray eyes sparkled. With a conspiratorial smile, the middle-aged salesclerk folded the full-length spaghetti-strapped nightgown, rang up the sale, and complimented them on their choice. As Jenna steered her out the door and through the mall, Grandma Vic wore a smug look. And she made certain the sack from Frederick's of Hollywood perched prominently on her lap. When shoppers turned to stare, she winked devilishly.

"Let them guess - this Victoria's not keeping anything secret!"