"Damn fools," he muttered. "Don't those speed demons know that children live on this street? They should at least think about that if they can't mind the speed limit."

Nora paused in the middle of tending her petunias and gave him her duly patented look of long-suffering. He pretended not to notice. It was a discussion they'd had many times before and only one of the disadvantages to living in a semi-rural neighborhood. The advantages more than outweighed the faults. Still, it annoyed him.

"You know what I feel like doing?" he said. "Sometimes I feel like running those yokels down like Chevy Chase did in that movie we saw on cable." He noticed Nora make a show of looking him over, her gaze lingering on his pleasantly-plump midsection.

"I don't think you'd be able to catch them," she finally said, cracking a wide grin.

Miles loudly lopped off a piece of juniper, trying to look manly. "Well, I could if I were twenty years younger." He lopped off a few more errant growths. "Or, maybe," he said, "I wish I could do that butterfly thing."

"Butterfly?"

"Yeah, like in that other movie."

"Butterfly kisses?"

"No, movie, not song. You know, where the butterfly flutters its wings and you get a hurricane halfway around the world."

"Oh, The Butterfly Effect."

"Yeah, that one. I wish I could just flap my hand and blow those nitwits right off the road."

As if on cue, a throaty engine growl signaled the approach of another car. Miles flapped his hand as fast as he could as the car appeared past the evergreens. But this time the car was traveling at the proper speed. The woman in the driver seat noticed him and smiled, waving her hand in return.

When she was safely out of sight, Miles scowled and turned to his wife. "Hon, the next time you see Carol will you please remind her about that hole in her muffler?"

Nora only nodded, but she was evidently finding his discomfort amusing.

He continued snipping. "I don't know if it's even legal, but I'd vote for them putting in speed bumps, if the county board would consider it. It doesn't seem to matter how many times people complain. I'm beginning to think the system is rigged. Take this fiasco with the land behind us they want to rezone residential. You know what that idiot Jorgensen said when I told him we only had an acre and a half, and they'd practically be building houses in our backyard? He said we wouldn't have that problem if we had forty acres like he did."

Nora stuck her hand spade in the dirt and stood. "Instead of complaining, why don't you do something about it?"

"Like what?"

"Like run for a seat on the county board."

"You're kidding."

"Why not? she asked, coming over and rubbing his back. "We're retired now. It's not like you don't have the time."

Miles considered the idea. Why not indeed? he thought. The elections weren't that far off. He turned and wrapped his arms around her. Tilting his head, he batted his eyelashes on her cheek. "What were you saying about butterfly kisses?"

She smiled at him suggestively. "Butterfly kisses are fine for the grandchildren, but I'm a little more interested in the real thing." She took his hand, and Miles let himself be led like a bull by its ring. Maybe he would run for the county board after all, he thought, following her into the house. And he knew exactly which member he wanted to run against. He couldn't resist flapping his hand one last time.

"Bye, bye, Jorgensen."