Friends and fans,

I am finally at the stage where I will be finishing the book in a matter of days. I have enjoyed the process of blogging the book toward completion and I thank each one of you for reading my work along the way.

I am asking that you please share the project with one friend who might enjoy my work.

Updates to follow as I find and agent and move forward toward publishing. 

Here is the link:

http:www.lookingback2014.blogspot.com

In time, Silvio would return to Tuscany and I to Casa Amor. I was finally going to reach a pinnacle in my life that could not be understated. I was going to be married and living in the home that I had longed for, for years.

I made the offer in September. Since cash was an option to close on the real estate in question, I would be able to close quickly and move in as soon as Silvio would approve and vacate the premises. I was in no hurry and neither was he. I was still grieving from the loss of my father, but I would soon be grieving in the most wonderful place on earth. In my mind, Casa Amor was heaven on earth.

Silvio and I closed in late October. Since it was an all cash deal, the negotiations and transfers were nil and the deal funded and closed smoothly. I knew that I would be settled in by Christmas, and hopefully at that point in a holiday mood. I reasoned that it was possible, but it was going to be tough. On one hand, it was a place that I longed to be more than any other place in the world. On the other, I would be without Mom and Dad this year. I hoped and prayed that both of the children would be home for Christmas.

November came and went. Since neither Liam nor Isabella could come in for Thanksgiving, Brad and I ate out. I saw no sense in making a large dinner for just the two of us. We were to be married after the New Year in March. With my eightieth birthday in February, I wanted the wedding to be before then. "Who gets married at eighty", I pondered? Well, with the exception of a month, I was on the docket.

With Dad gone, Belle in Atlanta and Liam in Connecticut, I poured all of my heart and soul into my relationship with Brad and my new book. Before the death of my father, I was twenty-five percent complete. By November, I was fifty and I had high hopes that the book would be finished by March/April and be in the hands of readers that summer.

Silvio didn't need the money. He simply sold his crop to the highest bidder. And before I could ask, he showed his hand and said, "So I assume this is about Casa Amor, am I correct?" I nodded in the affirmative and he sated, "It is absolutely NOT for sale......"

A pin could have dropped in the room and everyone would have heard it.

He then leaned in and very quietly said, "Except to you!"

To this I absolutely howled with excitement in a gasp and nearly fell off my chair while trying to hold back the flowing river from my eyes. When I finally regained my composure, Silvio got serious and said, "But you will ave to give me a fair price." To this I agreed, and I asked him to name his price. The house was easily worth $6M to the right buyer and I knew in my heart that Silvio did not owe a single dime on the place. "Would he be fair", I thought?

He got quiet again, and said, "After another bottle of wine, we will decide on a price." This actually "popped the air" from the balloon in the room and we were able to enjoy our wine, coffee and dessert. Tiramisu, a Super-Tuscan; Tiganello, and Starbucks coffee was on the menu for the dessert portion of the meal. Brad and I were prepared to pay north of $4M, but we wanted to get the place for under $4M. We were ill-prepared for his offer, which came while Silvio was removing bits of his dinner from his mouth with a toothpick.

"I'll take $3M!"

"3M, did you say", I said quietly?

"Yes, for you...$3M only", came the reply.

I got up from me seat, walked around the table to Silvio and his wife and kissed them both on the lips. I couldn't believe what I had just heard and promised them to have cash available within a few days and be able to close at their request. There was one thing I had to know...

"Silvio, will you return to Tuscany", I asked?

He stated that he indeed would return to Tuscany. He explained that he had only held onto the property in California because I had been renting it for so many years. He knew in his heart at the beginning that I could not afford to buy Casa Amor, but he held onto it; he said, for the pure joy of renting it to me each year. And since I had named the place, and even he had adopted it; he said he had prayed for the day that I would one day ask him to buy Casa Amor. He believed it belonged to me...long before and even if I could never afford it.

Now, he would return to Tuscany...and retire with his Villa and olive groves.

Gallivanting around downtown was fun that afternoon. Brad had an air of genuine calm about him in his "old age" that made him fun to be around. For the most part, he had not a care in the world. For many years, I was the same way except for my bought with severe depression after Brady's death. And sure, one worries about their children in different situations from time to time, but mostly, I was "happy-go-lucky" myself. I believe a lot of the stress-free living was due to the fact that we were both in positions financially that we did not have to worry about the basics and the additionally ancillary. New tires on the car or even a blown engine for that matter would be a small thing to have happen.

We had lunch at a bistro and continued to stroll around downtown San Diego in the Gaslight district until 4:00 PM. By then, I was beginning to bite my fingernails over the pressure of the meeting I was about to have at dinner with Silvio. It had nothing to do with intimidation! Silvio was a wonderful and kind man; now a friend, and I knew that he would say that he would consider our offer even if he had no interest in selling and simply and kindly tell us no later. It was simply that I wanted so badly to own Casa Amor.

I watched the clock for nearly an hour; sipping on a glass of wine, between five and six. At promptly six, Brad and I got into the Suburban and headed for La Jolla. We made it to Osterica at 6:25 PM. Silvio had pulled in a few minutes later, but early nonetheless. We ordered a Brunello di Montalcino and began lite conversation.

Silvio started by asking us about our summer. With the exception of my father's death, it was an excellent summer. And truthfully; knowing that my father had now been reunited with my mother was solace enough to make it a good summer. Novel sales were also a highlight and the extra month at Casa Amor was grand...as it had become my oasis that I could always find respite in.

Silvio talked about his summer in Tuscany. It had been more hot than usual, as the temperature had been nearly five degrees hotter on average by the day than in previous summers for the past fifty years. Global warming? Who knew! Irrespective of that fact, his olive groves liked the additional sunlight and his crop was easily sold at a higher price than usual to become extra-virgin olive oil.

I arose early next morning; as did Brad, and we poured over our finances together. I must say, it was the first time in a long time that I even cared to look. I suppose the excitement of the idea of owning Casa Amor was gnawing at me. It kept me up that nite, so I worked on my novel prior to Brad arising at 4:00 AM. It had been the first time that I had put pen to paper since the death of my father.

Our discussion that morning was not centered around if we could buy Casa Amor. It was simply about how much we would have to offer Silvio. We made guesses about Silvio's position...had it been in his family for years, or was he a self-made millionaire who owned a small villa in Tuscany? Either could have been the case, but the answer to both questions would cause for unsettling answers in our minds.

After kicking around number after number, we came to an agreement that we would offer $3.5M and would be willing to pay as much as $4.25M for Casa Amor. And even at that, we wondered if Slvio would sell.

Silvio was Italian, so when he phoned that morning to ask where we should have dinner, we invited him to dinner at Osteria Romantica. There we would wine and dine him and twist his arm until he agreed to sell Casa Amor. The more he resisted, the more Brunello di Montalcino and Tiramisu we would supply him with. We agreed to meet at 6:30 PM, that evening.

Brad and I decided that we would go "stir crazy" with both enthusiasm and worry if we stayed in the hotel. Instead, we opted to have a bit of fun in the city. We would go downtown, grab a Starbucks and hit every bookstore in downtown. The goal was to see which bookstores carried our novels and how many copies they had for sale on their shelves. Certainly not a normal activity, but we each needed this silly affair to take place before we would sit down to dinner and make an offer at a place that had become my love affair for the past several years.

Adams Avenue bookstore had been touted as the best bookstore in town, so we took a drive over there first. Of the fifteen books that Brad had in print, Adams had ten on the shelves and exactly twenty-two total copies. Not bad. I did have a leg up in the fact that I was a newly published author. In fact; to my surprise, I had quite a nice place in the window of the bookstore and my total copies in print for sale there numbered twenty-seven. "Score", I thought...even though it seemed petty! We visited Mysterious Galaxy bookstore and also Warwick's and found much the same story. I could claim my victory for a day, and Brad graciously let me claim it in a big way.

Ellen and Brad has a "master plan" to take the Canadian tour by storm. Instead of the usual one-day event at a Barnes & Noble, we decided that we would try to do a signing at as many local bookstores as possible over a five-day period in each city. That way, Brad and I could additionally enjoy the cities as we traveled and sold copies of my book thru Canada.

First stop:  Vancouver! Vancouver, British Columbia, was a city I had always wanted to visit anyway. Heralded as a culinary mecca, I had already informed Brad that he would be taking me to both the high and low places in the way of eateries in the city. By day I would sell books, and by nite we would eat and drink our way thru Vancouver.

On Day-1, we did do our usual at Barnes & Noble. However, the bookstore scene was much more welcoming at the independents. MacLeod's was by far my favourite. It had an interesting atmosphere with not only books on the shelf, but also mountains of books on the floor. Stacked as high as my head in some places, this was a bookstore unlike Brad and I had ever seen. Day-2 was spent at Chapters, day-3 at The Paper Hound, day-4 at The Library Store and day-5 at Albion Books.

I managed to make an appearance and get a few copies on the shelf at Golden Age Collectibles, Criterion, UBC Bookstore and International Books & Novelties. All in, we made it to nine bookstores in downtown Vancouver.

By nite, we were carnivores. I remembered watching a show on the Travel Channel one time that touted the best restaurant in Vancouver as Vij's. It was an Indian spot; and not particularly a typical cuisine in Vancouver, but it was still touted as the best restaurant by far in Vancouver. As Brad and I dined, our taste buds danced like the people on Broadway. I had never reached what I thought was Umami until eating at Vij's. Eating his fare and complimenting the spicy dishes with wines like Reislings from the Alsace Lorraine region of was just phenomenal...over the top. We additionally paired our dinner plates with Sauvignon Blanc and at the end of our dinner, Sauternes. It was perhaps the best meal I had ever had in my life.

Not terrible in their own right was The Absinthe Bistro, Bishop's, the Blue Water Cafe & Raw Bar, Meat & Bread, Minami, Five Sails and Tuc Craft restaurant. It was in total the best dining experience of my life; and I was able to share it with someone that I loved.

Fortunately and unfortunately, I received a call when Brad and I were at Vij's. The good news was that we had eclipsed the 1,000,000 copy mark; he bad news was that Dad had been diagnosed with prostate cancer. He would begin chemotherapy the following week.

Knowing this, I cancelled the rest of the Canadian tour. While I would have liked to have continued on to the other four cities, Dad was a priority. He might not make it to ninety-eight, as the outlook looked rather bleak. After Vancouver, I boarded a plane. I would spend the next eight weeks with my father.

This meant missing most of the summer at Casa Amor and out the book on hold, but I knew in my heart that i was the only right thing to do. Brad understood when I told him that I would be with my father; mostly alone, until his passing. I wanted that time with him to be special.

Dad had always been a private person, but he explained when I entered the house for the first time since his diagnosis that he wanted me to be there till the end. While he did not know it, that had already been decided. Brad visited about every two weeks. He and my father developed a small bond, as I hoped they would and he asked my father if he could have my hand. At the age of seventy-eight, I had been proposed to.

Not surprisingly, the proposal was overshadowed much by my father's ailing condition. The chemotherapy was weighing on his every last bit of strength; both physically and mentally. He told me stories about the war, about his college days as an athlete, about the fun times that he and mother had and his favourite memories from my childhood and of he and the grandchildren; Liam and Isabella. His memory; despite his age, had stayed relatively intact.

Liam and Isabella flew in a few weeks later. They both could stay only a week, but I could see my father's face lite up when the grandchildren arrived. Isabella immediately started crying when she saw her grandfather. They had been close over the years, but she could see the frailty in his eyes and body. Liam was much more resilient, but I could also see the stress in his face.

What helped us all was knowing that he would be joining my mother in heaven. Undoubtedly, they had each been strong in their faith and had passed on those lessons to myself and the children years ago. My father even recalled the baptism of Liam and Isabella as he spoke with them. He requested time with the three of us individually each day.

Being his only daughter, I had been quite a special gift in his life. He adored Brady and was beginning to like Brad. After all, he had given him his blessing to marry me. A bride at nearly eighty I would be. Why God had waited so long after Brady to bring me Brad, I could nary understand; but I had never doubted his purpose for my life.

Isabella shared with me that my father had spoken with her mostly about being a dedicated mother and wife. After all, she was slated to be married as well and would soon want children of her own. While Ryan and she wanted some time to themselves initially, they each were in unison in the decision to have children. My father talked about the wife and mother that my mother was to me. He explained to Isabella that the learning curve to becoming a successful wife and mother could sometimes be a tough climb. However, he reassured her along the way that she had more than enough skills to make the transition from career woman to mother and wife seamless.

Liam got a similar discussion, but it was geared each day toward becoming the leader of his household. He was to become a provider; but that of a different kind of the average man. My father explained to Liam that the average man only thinks of his profession. He shared additionally that a job is not the "be-all-end-all" to providing for your family. To be effective, one must be a leader from the standpoint of having a leadership style based on Biblical principles. My father reinforced this with examples from his own life for seven days. By the time Liam and Belle had to leave, they were well versed in their respective areas. They had their marching orders, and were expected to carry them out.

The week went by too quickly for both of them and back to their respective places they went. Fortunately, Liam and Isabella were able to see each other that summer. Liam was an intern at the National Institute of Health and of course Belle was still in Atlanta. Since the flights from D.C. to Atlanta were cheap, Belle would fly up to D.C., which was only a thirty minute drive from where Liam was stationed for the summer.

I continued to be there for Dad along the way and Brad came every two weeks. To get my mind off the seriousness of the situation, we talked about his novel and the wedding plans. At this point, Brad was almost seventy, which was still quite young in my eyes. Have been through that decade, I was beginning to see myself as a lot closer to the end like my father than at the beginning of the "home stretch" that Brad was in. Hopefully he would still have a good twenty to twenty-five years; and I fifteen to eighteen if I were lucky.

Brad was good about being patient and spending long hours at the hospital. There were a few times that I allowed myself to leave Dad's side, but they were few and far between. Life was too precious to meet any of the final moments.

Dad passed away on a Sunday. He had "fought the good fight" for seven weeks. He went quietly in his sleep early that Sunday morning. I called Isabella first, then Liam and finally Brad. My father had made his own arrangements years before so there was nothing much to take care of. We would simply follow the requests of his last will and testimony.

Not many showed up for Dad's funeral, but who has many friends at ninety-seven. At that age, most of your friends have gone before you, and it is your younger neighbors and siblings perhaps that will attend. I, being the lone daughter; and two grandchildren were they main characters in this play at the end of Dad's life. He had lived well; and outside of the time with my mother, he had shared with me in his final days how proud he was of me and the book. He had followed the numbers even from the hospital, as he made me look them up each day before he went to sleep.

Despite the small number, we laid Dad to rest in great fashion. Brad and I thought the brevity and the privacy of the situation played out exactly as my father might have wanted. We decided to all get together as a family for dinner in Asheville at Table. Table had been a staple for Dad and Mom once a month. Pricey, but always well worth the money.

As we talked, Liam shared with the group that he had good news. He had been accepted to Yale Medical School. Middlebury, the University of Minnesota and now Yale would be added to his curriculum vitae.  Isabella and Ryan were as excited as I. Brad, too, thought that not only was it the next logical step for Liam, but he felt that Yale would be more than an appropriate place for his studies.

I was excited for Liam. I had never been to New Haven, Connecticut; not even when I had traveled thru the north during the fall with Brad to look at the leaves in bloom.  On a few occasions, Brady and I also had traveled the northeast in the fall. Fall was my favourite season until I started spending my summers at Casa Amor. Without question, it was soon time to have a serious discussion with Silvio.

My one more month went by quickly. I had sold 2,000,000 copies of my book by the end of September when Silvio and his wife returned from Tuscany. I told Silvio that I would be staying over a few days in San Diego and wanted to have a discussion with him. He agreed, and we decided we would eat together in La Jolla.

I knew exactly what I had to do. I had to offer Silvio a price he could not refuse. Brad agreed to go in on the purchase of the home. He would put up fifty-percent of the offer and I the other fifty. We were to be married after all, so what was the difference. The total amount of royalties brought in from the sales of my books now was over $5M. I knew I would have to offer Silvio at least $3.5M, so that would mean coming up with $1.75M.

Ellen wondered if Brad and I would be willing to do a Canadian tour?

She said she would be able to book Vancouver and Ontario for certain, but thought there were some other places that we would be welcome. I explained that Brad and I would discuss it and get back o her. The goal of coming to Casa Amor for the summer was to work on my novel and relax; however, we may have to do some thinking.

Brad thought that the Canadian tour idea seemed reasonable. From the west coast, we could easily get to Vancouver. From the east; after a quick flight to New York, we could drive into Canada and do the larger cities in the eastern half. We still took a week to "noodle" on it, and promised Ellen an answer in a week.

After mulling it over, we committed to five cities in Canada. Vancouver, British Columbia, Ontario, Montreal, Quebec and Toronto. In doing so, Ellen figured that we would be able to reach a minimum of 100,000 readers and perhaps sell 250,000 additional copies of my book.

Having had the "warm fuzzy" honeymoon feeling with the first book, I was beginning to focus on the mechanics and process to getting the second book written and into the hands of readers. Ellen had already committed to an advance and the amount was yet to be determined; but we knew it might be double or even triple that of the first.

I continued to talk with Dad and perhaps he went thru a small "spell", as he was being less like a grumpy-old man and more like the healthy father of a published author. He was still keeping track of my numbers, and we projected that by the end of the Canadian tour, that we may even crack the 1,000,000 copies sold mark.

I was excited to hit that number; and while I truly believed I would, I wondered how it would feel.

Silvio was ecstatic when Brad and I returned to Casa Amor.

This year he had done something special that I immediately noticed. We exchanged a few words; and then as usual, he was off to the airport and I into the house to unpack. But back to my point...this year, there were flowers in every room. Silvio had filled the house with fresh flowers which would become not only a hobby for the summer, but something beautiful to appreciate as we enjoyed the house.

While I would be touring some that summer, it was going to be at a much slower pace. I intended to have Liam and Isabella take the reigns a bit and focus on marketing and selling the book from online channels. Each of them had done their respective parts, and I was rewarding them fro time to time as the royalty checks came in.

It was my goal to finish my new novel by Thanksgiving and have it on the shelves for the Christmas and New Year's holiday season. I figured that most of the writing could be done over the summer and I could dedicate what time I needed to in the fall to bring it to completion.

While I was excited to be spending the first summer at Casa Amor alone with Brad, I was also growing concerned for my Father and his health. Little by little as we talked, I could see his mind failing a bit. Additionally, he had become quite the complainer with respect to his physical health as well. He had been banged up quite a bit between high school and college sports, and the military. Despite all this, he was a "tough old bird", and I knew he would not give up without a fight.

Ellen called a few weeks after we settled into Casa Amor. She had a new angle for us to explore.

Spending time in Anguilla made me long for Casa Amor.

I phoned Silvio and booked another summer. By this time, we had become friends. He was happy to hear my voice on the other end of the line and delighted that I wanted to return to Casa Amor. Even he had adopted the nickname for his residence.

It was already spring and summer would soon be here. I had booked for a little longer this year, as Silvio wanted to spend a little more time in Tuscany, which gave me the option to stay longer in California. It really worked out.

I envisioned the second book pushing me over the edge and into the mainstream. Could it possibly be enough that I could purchase Casa Amor? Would Silvio sell? Cash would always do the talking and if I made good money with the second book, I just might have the proverbial "leg to stand on" with Silvio.

The next six weeks on the road flew by. I had just finished my thirty-fifth book signing when June 1 came around. On June 2, I boarded a plane along with Brad for the summer; and one month longer, to Casa Amor. I decided I would sleep the entire flight. While it would have been a good time to write, I had found at this point that I was most productive early in the morning. Brad and I shared this trait, and so we would write each morning along with our coffee in our respective work spaces and then meet each other on the covered patio for a lite breakfast.

When the plane landed, a smile came immediately to my face. Brad and I would pick up our bags, grab a taxi to Casa Amor and "check in" for the summer...plus one month

It was hard not to notice our destination when we arrived at the gate. We were going to Anguilla!

By now I was almost in tears. Brad had scheduled a week in Anguilla. The weather would be similar to that in San Diego and I missed Casa Amor deeply. Somehow he just knew this destination would be appealing to me.

The flight was short relatively, as I slept most of the way. Part of me wanted to keep my eyes open so as not to miss anything, but the other half knew that I needed the rest.

We arrived down on the tarmac in Anguilla about 6:00 PM. A Jeep with an open top and an escort was there to pick us and our luggage up to ferry us to the hotel. I could simply not believe my eyes when we arrived. Not only had Brad booked the most luxurious hotel on the island, but he also booked us a roof-top villa. The Viceroy Anguilla would be our home for the next seven nights

I could nary believe it! I never wanted to leave!

There were plenty of things to do at the hotel. Restaurants, bars, a spa; you name it, it was available to us at either our fingertips or a concierge phone call away. This was living!

Each morning I got up early and spent time walking the beach and then writing. I was now working on my second novel with the Amish theme. It was challenging; even more so than my first, but day-by-day, I whittled away at the manuscript; page-by-page, chapter-by-chapter.

Would I someday have two credits to my name?

By the time we finished our tour northward thru North Dakota, it was time for a break. To date, we had sold over 371,000 copies, and I was more than profitable at this point.

Brad and I decided we would go south for a few weeks and rest. He had just the place in mind, and made the reservations. It would be a surprise for me, and the only thing I had to worry about was getting my things together.

Being on tour was amazingly fun and exhilarating, but I was ready for a break. We would drive from North Dakota to our destination. I was still calling my Dad each day, and he was still keeping me abreast of the numbers; especially those that he could look up online. He was excited for me and how the book uplifted me both personally and professionally. Brad was also proud. He had been in my shoes before, but there is nothing like the first time.

As we drove, I fell into almost a meditative state. Looking out the window in a clam car with Brad at the helm was soothing. We would stop occasionally, but mostly I just peered out the window in deep thought.

I missed Brady! I missed Mom! And I missed how proud each of them would have been for me and of me. Dad was a stronghold thru this process and Brad a partner. We had literally (no pun intended) become "two peas in a pod." As we went further and further south, I wondered where we might be going. As we entered Miami, I saw Brad get off the exit to go toward Miami International Airport.

Not only were we going south, we were going south of the border. I began to get extremely excited. Where on earth could we be going?

From Texas; and more specifically Austin, we headed north on the book tour.

After San Antonio and Dallas, it was Colorado Springs, Denver and Aspen in Colorado. Following behind was Salt Lake City and Ogden, Utah. Then Cheyenne, Wyoming. We headed east to Lincoln and Omaha, Nebraska, then north again to Sioux Falls and Rapid City, South Dakota; east to Minneapolis, Minnesota, and then north again to Bismark and Fargo, North Dakota. Thankfully it was spring, so we were not completely freezing off our "tushes" at any given moment.

By the time we reached Fargo, we were just over 212,000 copies. I just knew we were going to hit our next milestone and surpass it. Could I do 500,000 or even 1 million? Only time would tell. At this point, online sales to personal sales at my book signings were outpacing me by a margin of 12-1. That was certainly not a problem, as the word was getting out and the efforts of my children were not going unnoticed. In fact, I kind of figured that when we reached 250,000 copies in sales, that the question concerning a raise might come up. Not surprising, as their work was strictly gratis to this point.

Brad and I attempted to find both the "holes-in-the-wall" and also the finer restaurants in our travels. Since this was not his first cross country tour, he was able to show me some things that I might have never found on my own. Some I had heard of, and others were completely new to me. My daughter was my history and finance buff, and Liam was no slouch himself.

Without fail, we always found good company everywhere we would go. The people were nice in almost every place we visited. Some blessing could be found in each and every day, it was not as if we had to look for it. It seemed to find us.

Austin with Brad was a welcome occassion.

We needed to slow down and enjoy the front-running success that we had already had with the book. We had sold over 100,000 copies and were seeing the numbers increase exponentially on a daily basis. It seemed that people actually liked my book. I was enamored by the response and the future possibilities and began running new book possibilities by Brad as we ate dinner.

We ate at Fleming's in downtown Austin.

Brad and I both ordered the Bone-In Ribeye. It was a fabulous dinner and we paired it with a Caymus 40th anniversary Cabernet Sauvignon. The steak, the wine, the sides and the conversation was exhilarating. I couldn't thank Brad enough for the help that he had supplied. He had introduced me to an agent that had actually taken my book, and was helpful in the process toward setting up a book tour. While my agent had given me free reign to setup book signings as I wished, we had certainly made progress having a dedicated contract with Barnes & Noble.

Barnes & Noble gave us cart-Blanche.They had really taken the time to roll out the red carpet for us. I was scheduled for signings for the next forty days, so my time in Austin had to be relaxing. I would call Dad each nite on the road and tell him about our day. He was keeping track of my numbers and perhaps knew them better than I did from a sales perspective. He knew his numbers, and so did the rest of his community.

Brad and I talked about our next book projects. He was slated to do something different and was going to pen a sappy Christmas story. I, on the other hand, had only a few good ideas, but could not decide. It was either going to be a fiction novel about a specific place in my past or a story about life in an Amish community. I needed an outlet, and starting a new book while on the road would not only be rewarding, but also relaxing.

As I laid my head on the pillow that night, I began thinking about how a novel from the Amish country might go. The ideas kept flowing, so I started the book that nite in Austin. Would I strike gold again? I wondered...

Los Angeles and Napa were also a hit.

I sold approximately 5,000 books thru all channels in these two events and online. My first goal was to reach 25,000 copies; which would more than pay for my advance and make me profitable. I could see the book starting to explode and wondered how big it could really become.

My father, Liam and Isabella were also extremely excited. They had not seen me this happy in years. It was not that I had not recovered from my loss of Brady, but they could now see a new passion in my eyes with the book.

Once leaving California, we were off to Nevada, then Arizona and New Mexico. We would do shows in Las Vegas, Reno, Flagstaff, Phoenix, Albuquerque and Sante Fe; just to name a few. In no time, we were selling 5,000 copies a week online and were frequently selling up to 1,000 at book signings. Our tour was becoming wildly successful.

Liam and Isabella decided to get into the action. Liam built a website for me and Isabella decided to do some sales and marketing; to include social media. While we did not see a huge impact immediately, the growth was exponential.

By the time we finished Albuquerque, I reached 25,000 copies sold. I would now begin to see the fruits of my labour as my advance was paid back in full.

While touring throughout Texas, Brad and I decided to take a few days for ourselves. We would spend two days in Austin recharging our batteries, so to speak. The children continued working hard, as they had set a new goal of 250,000 copies. At that point, I would be able to call the book a success in my mind. Again, I wondered how far I could go; and the numbers were beginning to speak for themselves.

Monday we would start beating the pavement, but it was first time to build a strategy.

Brad had many contacts at the larger bookstores and decided we should put together a cross-country tour. He contacted Simone at Barnes & Noble and she was happy to accept my offer to do a book tour having heard that I was picked up by Simon & Schuster.

We would begin in two weeks.

Since we were on the west coast, it was decided that we would travel the country from west to east. Los Angeles, San Francisco, and Napa would be the first three stops.

Two Monday's later came quickly as Simone suggested that we strike while the iron was hot. Simon and Schuster promised the book in two weeks, and actually delivered. I was able to get an advance of 2,500 copies. In a whirlwind fashion, I sold one hundred books at my first event in San Francisco and an additional 3,500 thru online channels in the first week. Not only was a published author, I was making money with the book.

Brady would have been proud of me. My greatest accomplishment was undoubtedly raising my children, but the book project had become a close 2nd.

I was happy with my latest success, Brad was happy to be along for the ride, and the whole process was motivating me to write a second book on the road. It was one of the most rewarding points of time in my life.

Two weeks went by and we were continuing to send out pieces each day.

Then Ellen called.

She called and Brad answered. He was calm, and handed me the phone. A voice on the other end asked calmly, "Is this Stephanie?" I confirmed that is was and the lady on the other end identified herself as Ellen from Simon & Schuster.

She asked, "Are you sitting down?" I sat for a moment and then she said, "Your book has been picked up by our firm and we are granting you a $25,000 advance!" Not knowing what to say next, I jumped nearly out of my shoes and screamed at the top of my lungs, "I am going to be published!"

Brad immediately ran to the fridge and got another bottle of champagne. And this time, he popped the good stuff. Mumm Napa.

I continued to be running around like a blubbering idiot and ran upstairs with my glass of champagne that Brad had poured me to change. We were going out on my dime, and it was not going to be to McDonald's or Burger King.

Osteria Panevino would be the reason for the season; and I meant season, as I knew this contract was just the beginning of a long run of things to do. Book signings, road tours, and many nites of celebration.

I just could NOT wait for the fun to begin. I had done it!

After a full breakfast on Saturday morning, Brad and I began putting together a plan for the week. We had a goal of getting the book sold within a month.

Each week we would contact twenty-five publishing houses. Five per day, with manuscripts sent and phone calls and emails written. Brad had mainly been published at Simon & Schuster, with the exception of a few books which he went the self-publishing route.

Brad had an agent in New York, and she seemed like the best bet to immediately get an offer. Brad had already sent off the book, but he shared with me that it goes thru quite a lengthy process from beginning to end; writing to publishing. Editorial review, cover design, manuscript design, approval, final approval and the like.

Her name was Ellen. Ellen had successfully climber the ladder from a junior agent to Editor-in-Chief. She had been in charge of everything, from one department to another across the industry time and time again. And she was a shark. She had a razor-sharp eye for the business and a rolodex to rival anyone in New York.

She was quick to respond that Wednesday that the book was being considered. Brad and I continued to "get out the word" on a daily basis. We were wasting no time; as we were playing offense and not defense. Brad had shared with me that this was a rough game to win.

I was talking with my father daily and having him ask me about my progress with the novel is what kept him going; as he had had plenty of heartache on his plate. I additionally wrote him letters, and tried to keep him in the loop with text messages as we made progress.

Brad was nothing more than extraordinary. His cause and concern were genuine. I just knew in my heart of hearts that we would soon get an offer.

I would not realize how long it would take to grieve over my mother's death. She had lived a long and fruitful life with my father; but that was not the point...she was gone, and I would not see her for a long time.

Dad and I spent the week together. I called to check on the kids and Brad daily, but he had things covered at Casa Amor. I longed to be there with them, but it was important to spend time with Dad in his moment of grief. It would take him much longer to push away the feelings of emotional turmoil; the demons within, that would haunt him nightly for a while around mom's passing.

Brad was chipping away at his contacts. In his opinion, he felt that he would find a publisher for my book and that it would not take much time. I, on the other hand, was more concerned with Dad. Despite living a hard week with him, we did have a few good times and a few laughs over things. What consoled him most is that he knew in his head that she was in a much better place. Looking down on us...and smiling.

I flew back to San Diego International on a Friday. Brad and the children greeted me at the airport around 6:00 PM. I was famished, so the first order of business would be dinner. It would not take us long to find a suitable and familiar restaurant in the Gas Light District.

Florent was a new spot in town, but we decided that it would be a staple in the restaurant scene around our house. After all, we were just minutes away and the food was phenomenal. After dinner, we decided to go o a local club for a nite cap. Both of the children were old enough at this point to enjoy a nite out, and having spent the last week in a somber mood, I needed to be enlivened.

We danced the nite away, and drank most of what the bar had on tap. In the morning I would be sorry that I had imbibed to excess, but I had been smart enough to drink a lot of water and take a few Advil before bed.

Brad had the grill fired up in the morning, and a nice breakfast consisting of a multitude of things would be the first order of the day before chipping away at selling my novel.

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Brad had built quite a few contacts in his career as a writer. Surely he could help me get the word out.

I was so excited that I called home around 9:00 AM EST. What I got on the other end was Dad. Something was gravely wrong, and I knew it; simply because Mom always answered the phone. She had fallen and broken her hip, busted her noodle (head), and was now in the care of a nursing home. I had to fly home, and the book would have to wait.

Thinking having something to read might cheer her up, I printed a copy as I was packing in a furious manner. I booked a 2:00 PM flight, which would put me home by 7:00 PM that evening; EST. I wasted no time getting to the airport. Sadly, I had seen this happen on several occasions. Nursing homes can be like "Hotel California"; you can "check out", but you can "never leave."

I boarded the plane and in a little over three hours in flight time, I was home. I never wavered in my thoughts. They were solemn and gray the whole time as I flew across the plains and big cities. "What could have happened?" At the ripe-old age of ninety-three, I guess anything could have.

I picked up my rental car and drove straight to Mission Hospital. The nursing wing seemed to be full of a host of characters, and then there was mom. Dad looked distraught as I hugged him. Mom was sleeping and it would not be until 2:00 AM that she awoke due to the pain of her hip and head. She was wrapped tightly to keep the wound on her head from infection, and her eyes seemed far away when she awoke. I could see the worst beginning to happen before she even spoke.

Dad knew it too, and we just wanted her to be comfortable. A little while after a nurse re-dressed her wound, she went back to sleep. At 6:00 AM, I called Brad and asked him to book a flight for Isabella, Liam, Ryan and himself. I needed the support of my family, as this would not be a drawn out process.

They arrived the next afternoon, and were able to see mother. It was Thursday, and she passed away on Monday. Arrangements were made for the funeral on Wednesday.

I knew Dad would be a mess. I agreed to stay another week just with him. I had just turned seventy the week before and all seemed well. It was a sudden and deathly fall for mother; however, but at least she didn't suffer.

Brad, Liam and Isabella and Ryan flew back to Casa Amor that Friday. I promised I would return the following Friday. Brad promised to begin helping me get the word out. Mom was not able to read my novel, but Dad would read it that week. He was proud of me, was happy to meet Brad and was happy that I was happy. In light of the circumstances, all was well.

Mom had gone to her resting place, and it was a time to rejoice.

After finishing the book early in the morning that Sunday morning; three weeks after Brad had started coaching me, I looked at the last sentence I had just written with amazement and read and re-read it over and over again. I had finished a novel. I screamed aloud, "I have finished a novel!"

Isabella awoke and came running to the office. She said, "Mom, say it again!" So I yelled louder, "I have finished MY N-O-V-E-L!!!" By this time, everyone in the house was awake and had scurried down the step to see what was the matter. Nothing was wrong, and everything seemed to be right; or write, with the world...I had just "finished a novel."

Brad knew that it was only 7:15 AM at this point by after hugging me and allowing a little of the commotion to calm down, he scurried to the kitchen, fetched a bottle of Champagne and returned to the office. He brought along some orange juice, but I was just wanting the good stuff. He made a small toast, "To Stephanie, the most beautiful woman on Coronado Beach, and the best writer at Casa Amor!"

I could nary believe the last part, as Brad was so accomplished, but I allowed him to continue to embellish and at the same time lift my spirits. In reality, though, I had done something that only a chosen or select few do. Many of us read books for years, but ,"How many people in this world ever write one?"

Brad continued to encourage me that morning. He stated that we should continue our celebration over a nice breakfast. We did so, and we talked again about the next steps. I had only been working on my platform for a few weeks, but I had a strong network of people.

It was time to get my work out there; and with Brad's help, I knew I would be successful.

We spent the first week doing an edit of my book. I continued to write each day for about thirty minutes to an hour as Brad had suggested. The biggest thing, he said, to writing a novel is to do so like eating an elephant. The only way to eat an elephant is one bite at a time, and he paired or made this analogy to my writing.

I was nearly eighty-five percent finished at the end of week one at Casa Amor. Brad talked to me about the next steps to getting a novel published. He said, "You have to build a platform, Stephanie." By that he meant that I need not only to build a list of followers and to understand the market for my book, I had to get my name out there even before publishing. He also said that since I was nearly finished that I needed to start writing query letters. These are basically applications to publishing houses that may take the time to pick up my book.

While the steps were many, he was able to make it understandable with an almost effortless advisory bent. He knew what to say and what to do at each stage of the process, as he had gone "thru the hoops" on many an occasion. He was, after all, one of the most accomplished writers on the planet currently.

In the following three weeks, I would finish the book. I was able to hammer out the last sentence on a Sunday morning. I didn't know how, but somehow I knew the book would sell. I would someday find out just how successful it would be...

Around 8:00 AM, I started some breakfast in the kitchen. The kitchen at Casa Amor was perhaps my favourite place in the whole house. It was open to both the dining room and the living room. The Italian tiles of the backsplash and eighteen-by-eighteen tiles on the floor. Double-ovens in the wall, a pizza oven for making brick/wood-fired pizza, and then the Italian marble tops. Not only was it stylish, but was kept immaculate.

Brad insisted on a lite breakfast of eggs and bacon, which was easy for me to muster up. I made only enough for he and I as I figured that the kids would sleep a bit. Now adults; of course, but they would always be my "little" children. I was correct, as Ryan and Isabella creeped down the stairs around 9:30 AM and Liam 10. By the time they made it to the breakfast table, I had baked my favourite breakfast dish:  blueberry souffle. The recipe had been handed down for years, and I was the third in the generational lineage to have a copy. I had yet to share my guarded secret with Isabella, as she had yet to pry it out of me. Now that she and Ryan were forming a special bond, I decided to go ahead and give her a handwritten copy that morning.

After Brad had eaten, he retreated back to the office to write. Despite the fact that this was a vacation, he was in the middle of a book and had recently hit a stride he did not want to waiver from. He explained he was in the character development phase, and needed to be constantly writing until these characters came to life.

As I thought about my own book, there was not much to my character. She was a lonely woman for most of her adult life. Perhaps there were too many immediately identifiable references to myself; but in a way, I wanted my story told. Brad took a break around 11:00 and insisted that I bring him up to date on my work. He retreated to a leather chair in the Florida room and read my entire novel to this point.

His suggestion was that I turn it into a memoir. He, too, had noticed the personal references and promised to help me reshape my novel if I would allow him to. With hesitation, I nodded in agreement.

The following morning, I heard Brad arise around 3:45 AM. For some reason, my internal time clock woke me up to pee at that time, so I had heard him scurry down the steps toward the Keurig. This was not an odd occasion for Brad, as he proclaimed to do his best work before daybreak.

I let him get settled into his chair. I could hear him moving things into place. A stapler, some pens, his cup of coffee and then the typewriter. It was an older model. The kind with the keys that strike the page with every keystroke. And the kind that you must push the carriage back to the other side to start a new line. I so much wanted to go and greet him, but I let the sounds of him working hypnotize me like a beautiful lullaby.

By 6:00 AM, I could stand it no longer. The sounds were intoxicating to the point of driving me crazy. I scurried down to the kitchen myself, and started my own cup of coffee. I had remembered from our conversations a few weeks before that Brad had enjoyed red grapefruit juice in the morning. I had purchased some red grapefruit at the Farmer's Market in anticipation of his arrival. I halved one, sprinkled brown sugar on it, and broiled it for about twenty seconds. I took another cup of coffee and some grapefruit up to "Brad's office".

He greeted me with a kiss even though I had yet to brush my teeth. Neither of us had; in fact, but at least some citrus and some roasted coffee beans had passed over our lips. He took a minute to bring me up to speed about where he was in his book and then asked me about mine. I was proudly able to tell him that I was eighty percent finished, but I wanted him to show me how to complete it that summer at Casa Amor.

He got up, and sat me down at "the machina". This was a new piece of equipment for me, and I was a little nervous. "How hard must I strike the keys", I wondered? Brad was kind enough to "show me the ropes". After getting me acquainted with "Charlotte"; his typewriter, he challenged me to write as fast as I could for fifteen minutes. Not on the topic of my book, but rather anything that came to mind. It was an exercise in allowing your brain to do the writing. I hammered out 2,000 words in fifteen minutes. We both laughed at one another, as I thought I had done horrible and Brad insisted that I was a "first-time professional".

We kissed some more, as we watched the sun creep over the horizon at Casa Amor, the first day. 

The next two days seemed to crawl.

But they did pass and at 5:55 PM on a Wednesday, Brad's plane touched down at San Diego airport. I waited impatiently at the gate to see him exit the plane and come up thru the hanger. He was smiling from ear to ear the moment he saw me and I had a small tear stream down my face. I could tell that there was something deep in the recesses of my body, mind and soul. "Was it finally L-O-V-E", I thought to myself?

Brad and I piled into the Suburban. He had not brought much in the way of luggage and I wondered why. Perhaps he was not being presumptuous, and perhaps he was being gentlemanly; but I had a moment of fear enter my heart as if he was hesitant about a long stay. In a second thought, I figured that he packed lite on purpose, and would buy what he needed per the stay. After all, he did carry a "Black" American Express card. Writing for a living had made him a small fortune. There was no doubt in this.

He unpacked when we arrived at Casa Amor. He was floored at the house itself. Much like myself, years ago, he gazed at it with astonishment and had a comment about every room. We had plenty of space for Ryan and Brad to have their own rooms; and at least for now, I insisted that Ryan ave his own. Yes; I know, Isabella and Ryan were moving in, but they were not married. In this, there were boundaries in my home. It would have been no different in Asheville, and I demanded it so here at Casa Amor.

After Brad settled in and took a shower, I showed him the room I had prepared with a desk for him. I had actually taken the time to buy a desk and remove the one; temporarily, that Silvio had in the house. My goal was to ship it to my home in Asheville at the end of the summer; hoping that Brad might follow. Plans, plans! But would they work?

After closing on the house, Ryan, Isabella and Liam drove to California. I had gone ahead of them, and Brad was flying in in a few days.

When I arrived first at Casa Amor, I was greeted by Silvio and his wife. As was the same many times, his bags were packed to go to Italy. With a check in hand, I paid him for the summer and he could exchange the funds for a few more Euros upon arriving in Europe. They were kind enough to again hand me the "keys to the castle" for a summer.

I took a short drive down to the beach and walked along the shoreline. Coronado Beach had been part of the oasis of my stays at Casa Amor, and better therapy than even Anne could provide. I had sought out a psychiatrist in California on the off chance that I spilled my medication down the drain. However, Anne was always good to give me a "vacation override", giving me 120 pills per prescription as opposed to the normal ninety.

While walking along the beach near the end of the evening, with the moon rising above slowly over the horizon, Isabella called my cell phone to let me know of their arrival. She was ecstatic when I returned home and made a waving motion and jingled her keys to represent the new home owner that she was.

Liam was still studying at the University of Minnesota, as his program would last another two years. He had decided to become a genetic counselor, and even had thoughts of medical school. I could not have been prouder of my son and daughter. They had grown up too fast, and I was growing older, faster, it seemed.

I longed to have Brad at Casa Amor. I had staged a desk near a window so he would have an appropriate place to write during his stay. He had explained in conversation that he enjoyed writing in the early morning; and by early, I mean 4:00 AM. His proficiency was better than even the late evening before bed. He was obviously productive on this schedule as his books always experienced rave reviews within the community of writers and had topped the best seller list on numerous occasions.

As I sat in his desk for a moment, I made the motions of me writing my own novel. I would have to try his typewriter, to see if it made me a better writer. He would be here in two days, and I longed for his arrival.

My weekend with Brad, Isabella and Ryan was great. I could see the companionship displayed between Ryan and Belle, and they shared with me that weekend that they planned to move in together soon. T. Rowe Price had a satellite office in Atlanta, Georgia; as did Seven Mile Advisors, so Belle and Ryan planned to both relocate and begin their partnership.

They were coming through Asheville en route to Atlanta the following week. Since Belle had the resources, she and Ryan had planned to buy a place within a reasonable distance to both of their workplaces. They would begin to build a relationship and a life together. While I was not fond of the idea of splitting a house without a marriage in place, times had changed and a house was just a commodity and an asset; that if something went awry, you will simply halve and sell your share, respectively. I cautioned Isabella to be careful, but she felt comfortable with the arrangement. She felt as if a proposal was "in the air" and with that, I gained some solace.

Brad had promised to visit me at Casa Amor. It was less than two weeks till I would leave for La Jolla and San Diego, two places in California that I had come to love. Casa Amor was my respite.

I traveled to Atlanta with Isabella that Monday. Ryan would join us on Wednesday after we found some places of interest. She had trusted Belle to find them a home. We looked in downtown and also within a fifteen mile radius to find the best deal. While there were many places to consider, Isabella fell in love with a rowhouse. It was close enough to each of their offices.

The price was steep in my opinion for a first home at $300,000, but Ryan was a veteran and qualified for a Veterans Administration loan at a very low interest rate with no private mortgage insurance and no down payment required. Payments with taxes would run $1385 per month, and easily affordable number compared to their respective salaries. Between the two of them, they were bringing in enough to cover the entire cost of the home in one year; before bonus.

When Ryan arrived on Wednesday, we looked at a number of properties. He also agreed that the rowhouse was not only the best deal for the money and area, but he fell in love with the house immediately as well. It would become their home in a few short days.

It was May now, and I was due for a visit to Baltimore. Brad and I had been taking on a regular basis and I wanted him to meet my daughter, Samantha. I also wanted to meet Ryan from Charlotte; as per our conversations, Samantha and he were forming quite the bond. I knew also that if I went to Baltimore that Brad would come and meet us there.

It was also only a few weeks before I would make the journey once again to Casa Amor. I would be there this summer for the last time in my sixties, as I was due to turn seventy. Samantha was due to turn thirty-three, and Liam twenty-nine. He had graduated from Middlebury and was now taking classes as a graduate student at the University of Minnesota in the biostatistics department.

I traveled to Baltimore on a Thursday. I would be there for the weekend. Brad agreed to meet us for dinner on Friday nite.

We met at Sullivan's Steakhouse in the Inner Harbor area of Baltimore close to the aquarium, other attractions and the financial district. I was not aware that Brad was such a fan of steak, as he even knew the gastronomy of the Roman Empire and when meats like steak were introduced to the Romans. I guess the didn't just lay around naked on chaise lounges and eat grapes after all!

The beauty of our meal that evening is that they had a PRIX FIXE option at just $42 that allowed us three courses that for sure made our mouths water before we started on the bread. Brad was no stranger to wine, but not quite at Brady's level. I would never let him know; and over time, he would grow into quite the connoisseur anyway. Since steak was definitely on the menu, Samantha and I started and stayed with Cabernet Sauvignons. First there was Frog's Leap, then Rombauer and for dinner, Shafer. A flight that no one with a taste of Napa would turn down.

We must have dined for four hours. The conversation was lite and refreshing. Ryan was interested in Brad's writing career and that alone was a ninety minute conversation piece. Samantha was happy to be happy, and even happier that I was happy.

Brad was a gentleman, and retreated to his hotel alone without even so much as an invitation. Tomorrow would be a much different story; however. 

I had the "hammer down" as I accelerated my way down the interstate toward Frostburg, Maryland. I had not been this "giddy" since Brady and I had dated. It seemed that Brad had the same enthusiasm for me, and that was the whole reason for my excitement. I couldn't help but see a bright future with him.

I had left Vermont at dusk and that would put me in Frostburg around 2:00 PM. Brad would teach until 3:30 PM, and then he had promised me another dinner. I was unaware that he had picked a restaurant ninety miles away, but I cared not. Spending time with Brad and getting to know him better was the goal.

He was done at 3:20 PM and phoned me. I had already booked a hotel and had planned to stay in Frostburg for the evening. However, Brad had other plans. He ferried me to Frederick, Maryland. Our first stop was a vineyard tour at Sugarloaf Mountain Vineyards. Brad knew the proprietors by name, as he wrote about wine on a personal blog and had done a piece for them that made it to the Washington Post.

After a tour and a cocktail with the owners, it was off to dinner. A local restaurant just around the corner from the winery was our destination. We would dine at the Dutch's Daughter. We started with Baked Shrimp Bread and Baked Brie in a Puff Pastry. As if that wasn't enough to send us into a food coma, we continued. I charged on with Maryland Crab Soup and he had the French Onion. We seemed to both be in the mood for beef along side our Cabernet Sauvignon from Napa, so I had Filet Oscar and he the Filet Mignon.

Not to be outdone, he had booked a room at the nearby Pleasant Springs Farm. Not wanting to waste any time this time...it felt right anyway this time; I agreed. We spent the nite there in an old cabin and he had additionally made reservations for dinner the following day at the Comus Inn. It was all coming together this time; not at a slow pace, but at a good pace. I dreamed of spending mornings with him; bringing Brad coffee and breakfast as he typed away at "the machina" from a desk near the window at Casa Amor. I somehow knew this dream would become a reality.

The morning came quickly after a short snooze. I had wanted to stay in Frostburg another day and evening, but I was committed to going to Vermont. I hadn't seen Liam since just after the New Year, so I was excited to see my son. I would tell him too about Brad, but I first had to make it to Randolph.

I left early after only four hours of sleep. As I started the car and brushed off just a it of snow from it, I wondered if Brad was up this early doing the same. I figured in my mind that he; on the other hand, was probably writing with a nice cup of coffee close to his typewriter or computer. Personally, I pictured him as a typewriter and pipe kind of guy.

After allowing the car to warm up, I loaded my bags into the trunk and off I went. To my surprise at exactly 7:12 AM, my phone rang. It was Brad. He had called to thank me for a wonderful evening of food, wine and conversation. And he was concerned with when we might see each other again. I had a thought, but kept it to myself for the moment. I wanted to see if his enthusiasm would keep him in touch while I was visiting Liam. If so, I would extend my trip a day and spend a day with him in Frostburg on the way back to Asheville.

The nice thing about the financial status I was in is that I had no concern over money. Now, you have heard it a million times before, but Brady's planning put me in a "position to win" in the category of finances. Even Liam and Isabella got salaries thru college and a lump sum at graduation. In fact, Isabella was starting to look at real estate in Baltimore, as she now knew the city enough to make an informed decision about a place. That would be my next trip; to Baltimore to look for a flat or town home.

I made it into Vermont by 4:00 PM. Liam was studying genetics and the effects of early childhood brain development. He had added some psychology classes as a minor in order to get some "development theory" education. I would stay for four days, and Brad called on two occasions and I on one. I had to get back to Frostburg, and Liam fully understood.

Brad's house was a nicely remodeled Victorian. I had made a reservation at the Frostburg Hampton Inn where i would stay for the evening. He had made reservations at Giseppe's, a local Italian restaurant.

Dinner was good, but the conversation better. He talked about his travels through Europe and more pointedly Italy, as he studied Italian and Italian Literature with a focus on the Roman Empire time period.  He was definitely self-educated, and I could appreciate his intellect. Over Tiramisu and coffee, the conversation turned to me. He had figured that I had nearly ten years on him and with that came a certain level of knowledge and sophistication.

He was impressed that I was writing and I promised to let him have a look at my book; however, much was still to be finished, but he would be a great start to a good edit. We talked a good bit about my children and his daughter as well. Middlebury college, he explained, was the perfect place for Liam and Savannah. He had named his daughter after the city where he had started and finished his first novel. It took him twelve months of writing and editing, and he had both started and finished the novel at Tybee Island, just off the coast of Savannah.

He spent many a summer there since, and Savannah wouldn't have it any other way. She was a beach girl at heart, after all. I told him about my summer love, Casa Amor, and he promised to make it out to La Jolla and San Diego to see the place in a few months. I felt he would make good on his promise.

His latest novel was about a lawyer turned criminal. He was using wire taps to get into circles of criminals as they exchanged information to launder money. With his expertise of this activity and the law and banking, he was transferring funds to his own account. It was an interesting concept and I allowed Brad to come to the Hampton Inn for a nite cap. There was a lounge in the hotel, so it was an easy transition from the restaurant.

We chatted over a B&B and a Sidecar until 1:00 AM. I don't know what possessed me to do so, but I called Isabella as soon as he left. She had to know about Brad, and the enthusiasm in my heart for him.

Both Liam and Isabella both made it home for long visits for both Thanksgiving and Christmas. At Christmas, I was introduced to Ryan. I, too, thought he was quite handsome, and I was happy for Isabella. He mentioned that he was up for associate and three members from the firm would be given the title on January 5th. He felt good about his chances.

The holidays came and went too fast. Liam wanted a telescope for Christmas, which I thought was an excellent gift. He would spend many a nite looking at the Northern Sky and other constellations and planets. Isabella needed a new desktop with double screens. Her research was getting harder and harder, as the small but profitable biotechnology companies kept their information tightly close to the company coffers.

Both gifts I was able to acquire and both were happy.

It was back to work as usual when the New Year came and went. Isabella phoned late in the evening on the 5th. They were at a nice steakhouse in Baltimore, and Ryan had been awarded the title Associate at the firm. They celebrated only until 10:30 PM at the restaurant, and then went on their own to one of Ryan's favourite wine bars in Charlotte to finish out the evening. He had done it!

I was slated to go to Middlebury in March. February came and went. I made the fourteen hour-plus drive in one day on a Friday. I left at 5:00 AM and arrived late that nite around 8:00 PM. The following day, I would follow Liam across campus, as he led prospective students on a tour of Middlebury.

During the tour, I met someone interesting. He was a professor at Frostburg State University in Maryland. In addition to teaching English and Italian Literature, he was a writer himself. Brad had a certain arrogance about him, but I could see his goodness and kindness of heart from behind his glasses. He was specifically educated in Roman Literature and studied at both Yale and Dartmouth. At any rate, he was no dummy.

He paid for lunch for me with a black American Express, so I knew that money was not an issue. He was a New York Times best-selling author ten times over. This was a surprise, but not shocking. He was younger than me by nearly ten years at a cool fifty-eight, and had had a thirty-year teaching career and a fifteen year career as a writer.

He was a good listener and easy on the eyes. I loved the shapes and contours of his face, and it matched his well-built body and his gentlemanly look. Obviously confident, he talked about himself as well, but not too much.

He had started having children late in life, as he had traveled thru Europe studying literature. Somehow I knew; if we made a connection, I would never get an errant sentence or spelling by him, but that in-and-of-itself might challenge me to be a better writer.

At the halfway point in the tour, we managed to get lost and meet back up with Liam at the beginning point. We decided to stay in touch, and would develop a friendship first. He lived at nearly the halfway point to Vermont; so being aggressive, I promised to make the first visit in April.

On my return trip from Vermont, I thought about what Ann had said. I remembered a college cheer from back in the day that ran over and over in my head.

"Be Aggressive, Be Be Aggressive, B-E AGG- RESSIVE!"

I couldn't help but think how to tackle my problem.

I phoned Isabella and asked for advise. Here was a 69 year-old woman asking her 32 year-old daughter for advice...but I needed it!

Belle said that it would be ideal if it came naturally. She mentioned that she was talking with the man she had met at the club in Charlotte. They met casually, and both had a common interest in careers. Ryan was in private equity with Seven Mile Advisors. He was fairly new to the firm, but was aggressively aiming toward an associate position and then partner. He was slated for associate that year and then partner would come as slots opened up.

She stated he was tall, dark and handsome. He grew up in Birmingham, Alabama, and had attended the University of Alabama prior to graduate school; which he had just started online thru Northeastern University. The firm was "footing the bill", so he had no worries on how to finance the additional education. He was coming to Baltimore in two weeks, just prior to the Thanksgiving holiday to see Belle.

The advice that I was given was to first, be patient; and secondly, to not be too aggressive. It would come, she had faith in this.

At my local spot on Friday nite, I had been conversing with a few men, but none of them quite piqued my interest. I was going to an open house in the spring, and perhaps I would meet someone in Vermont.

My prospects in Asheville seemed bleak.

Thursday evening I packed every last sweater that I had in my closet. I knew it would be cold and blustery with plenty of snowfall. There was already five feet on the ground at Middlebury, despite the roads being clear and passable. I hoped the roads on the way to Vermont would be the same.

I decided to take two days to make the trip since I knew I would be staying for a week. I booked a Bed & Breakfast; and decided to stop just northwest of New York. Perhaps I could add to my sweater collection and find some appropriate attire for Vermont.

On the Creek Bed & Breakfast would be my home for the next five days. The trip would be nine days in total with four days of driving and five days to visit with Liam. As mentioned previously, he had taken up skiing and snowboarding. Why the snowboarding, I don't know, and it is incredibly hard on the feet and ankles; where skiing is much less so. We did drive to Killington and stayed at the lodge for two days there. I decided not to try my hand at skiing and preferably stayed in the lodge where I could enjoy the spa and hot chocolate by a fireplace.

Our room had a fireplace as well, so I stayed cozy for those two days. The main topic of discussion for the weekend was Liam's major. Preferring science, he decided that he was going to study genetics and food science. I had done some research on the internet while he conquered the slopes and found that he might enjoy taking some additional classes at Vermont Tech. The had excellent classes to take from craft distillery to craft beer making. I knew it would spark his interest.

At Middlebury, the food in the dining hall was surprisingly fit to eat. While we ate lunch there, we preferred restaurants in the evening. Even with his allowance; where Liam was already spending to much of it on craft beer...as I could tell from his trash can, the cost of going to nice restaurants sans Mom's American Express was out of the question.

We did have a great five days together. Despite the fact that I did not ski at Liam's request, he was thrilled to have my visit. I promised to return in the spring, as both he and Isabella would be home for the holidays. Another summer at Casa Amor, and I would be seventy. Seeing how grown-up and mature Liam was brought back thoughts of Brady that I had not had in a long time.

I was happy for Liam's choice of majors, and wondered how he would use it for the greater good.

Ann, my psychiatrist, was happy to see me. It was unnecessary to make a change to my medication, but I needed an ear.

She was happy to listen, and I gave her an update first on the children just to get myself talking. I was; however, feeling a little depressed at the current moment. Isabella was great, Liam was great, and I was just so-so. I needed a change. I was still writing creatively which was my only outlet. I was nearly halfway thru my book, and I had given a copy to Belle over the weekend for her to have a look. She was so used to reading financial analysis, that I thought she would enjoy the change. I was sixty-eight and I wondered if I would ever find love.

I explained to Ann that while I wanted to look for love, what I really wanted was for it to find me. Mother was getting old, and she was now ninety, and it seemed that in the blink of an eye that I might be ninety also. Ann was happy to listen, and encouraged me to be a little more aggressive. I had made myself so busy with the children after Paul, that I made no time for myself. There was baseball for Liam, and the professional world for Belle.

The most recent shopping trip is what prompted my visit to Ann. While Isabella and I had a great time in Tennessee and North Carolina for a few days, the evening at the club made me weary and sad. I had wished for a man to be with me. Just a nice fellow who would enjoy the fine food and fine wine that I do, and that would love, appreciate and enjoy my children. It had also been a while since I thought of Brady. "Was he really in the back recesses of my memory at this point?"

What I did know; was despite the weather, it was time to visit Liam at Middlebury. It had also been a while since I had visited mother; and although I kept her in notes, I knew her health was declining day by day, and it would soon be time for an assisted living community to enter the picture.

Once I finished with Ann, I gave myself a month to "be aggressive". I promised to continue with my medication, and she advised adding 3 mg to my Abilify, bringing the dosage up to 5 mg. Tis would hopefully give me an added boost.

I would leave Friday for Vermont, and be there for a week.

We returned to Asheville from Charlotte on Monday evening and Isabella would leave on Tuesday morning.

Up early, she had made me breakfast that morning and brought it into my room. She said I would have to get on a robe and come "kiss her goodbye" if I wanted to see her, as it was 9:00 AM, and she had to leave for Baltimore. It would be dinner time before she returned, so getting started was imperative; as she needed to be rested and back to work Wednesday morning.

She said not much about the rest of her evening in Charlotte. It only consisted of an hour or so at the club, so maybe there was nothing to tell. She left quickly after some hugs and a short chat over coffee and a bagel. Once again, my little girl; 0now a big girl, was gone.

I had yet to visit Middlebury and was a little timid. The winters in Vermont are much different than those here in Asheville. A skift of snow here can mean inches-to-feet in Vermont. Liam had skied a few times before, but it was becoming his new winter hobby.

Despite the random calls for information requests or money, I usually talked to Liam on Tuesday and Friday and Isabella on Wednesday and Saturday. I had made this schedule and the children were kind enough to attempt to stick to it. I think this is because they had hoped that I would find someone. Paul had been nice enough and kind enough, but in the end, was not the right man.

I still went out to Limone's, my favourite place in Asheville occasionally on Friday nites for a drink or two, but I wasn't looking. Lord knows, I needed to. After spending a long weekend with Belle, I realized how much the strong need for companionship was tugging at me in my life. And it is great to have that quality time with your kids, but you need a partner as well.

I phoned my psychiatrist the following morning. We were due for a chat.

We "shopped until we dropped" for two days. We had booked a room at The Christmas Inn. And there were plenty of restaurants to enjoy as well. Paula Deen has just opened a $20M complex close by, so we had to try her fare. It certainly did not disappoint.

Belle mostly bought clothes for work; and I on the other hand, bought clothes that made me look like I was in my forties as opposed to my sixties. I wondered if I would ever find love again, and Isabella and I talked about this in a "running discussion" over the next four days.

The days would go too fast. In Charlotte, we stayed at the Aloft hotel. Trendy and new, it was a little psychedelic for me, but Isabella usually had a reservation at Aloft in whatever city she was traveling to as she met with CEO's and CFO's around the country to discuss their current and future operations. I could tell that she was going to hugely successful at T. Rowe Price in Baltimore.

We talked about the city she lived in. She enjoyed going to Orioles baseball game and was typically given tickets by the firm at least once every two weeks. There was a little bar close to the ballpark; Pickles, that she frequented and there was also Fells Point nearby. This was a slew of bars that one could "hop" around during the evening, and my little Isabella loved to dance. She had come to like this activity very much. There wasn't much of it at William & Mary, in the way of things to do, and she mostly focused on her studies during her time there.

In Charlotte, she somehow got me to go dancing. I felt too old to go, but at the same time I realized that Belle and I would not have this opportunity to really bond all that often in the future. I decided to "roll the dice", and I tagged along. I "dressed to the nines" so as not to embarrass her. Not slutty, but mildly inappropriate for my age. I was going for that forties look again. Prior to going to a club, we had eaten dinner at Bentley's. This was the higlight of the evening for me and the dancing for Belle.

I managed to stay out till 1:00 AM, and had to cash it in. Bella stayed behind, as she was talking to a private equity guy; a young fellow of thirty and a little more mature than Belle, but they seemed to create a bond. I was happy for her; and more happy when she returned to Aloft alone. 

Spring had sprung, and it had been a long time since I had done something for myself.

I wanted Isabella to join me, so I asked her o drive home for the weekend the first weekend in March. What were we going to do? None other than shop until we dropped.

We would spend two days in Pigeon Forge, Tennessee, and two days in Charlotte, North Carolina, and she would return to Baltimore Tuesday and resume work on Wednesday.

The flowers we starting to think about blooming and I sat on the front porch. She arrived that Thursday night around 4:00 PM. I was excited to see her and the first thing we did was to put on a cup of tea. Sitting on Adirondack chairs on the front porch, we talked about her life in Baltimore. She was having a very successful working career to this point, and was happy. She would still be a "new" analyst for several years, but she was already making a large introduction with the fund managers. A few good picks over a five year run can make their career. And it was Belle's job to make that happen.

I was still not getting out. The prompt end to my relationship with Paul was like a karate chop to the throat. It made me not want to date. Surely men of my age would understand that I would not be willing to simply throw myself at them...or did they? The times had changed, and I wholeheartedly believed they were not for the better. I feared for Isabella and Liam; Belle more so, but each of them were young, but mature.

I had taken the time to make Isabella her favourite breakfast dish for in the morning. It was a recipe that I inherited from my mother-in-law and one that I will always have on file.

Isabella and I sat on the porch until 11:00 PM. We had watched the neighbors come home from work, the kids in the neighbourhood playing in the street, and had moved onto wine by 6:30 PM. A bottle from southeast Australia; a Viognier from Yalumba, was our first, and then a Cabernet from Mendoza, Argentina; Alamos, would serve as a nite cap.

The maiden voyage that we had taken so many times would start at 5:00 AM. We would be off to Pigeon Forge.

If I had picked for both Isabella and Liam, I would have been wrong.

To my surprise they both headed north. Liam to Middlebury College in Vermont, and Belle to Baltimore, Maryland to work as an analyst at T. Rowe Price. I was extremely proud of both.

Liam was going to be going on a full-ride as a student athlete on the baseball team. He had finished his high school career with a .383 batting average and a total of 115 home runs and 482 RBI's. Not bad for someone who started the varsity team as a freshman. He would take his basic level courses and decide on a major later.

Isabella decided not to stay at home in Asheville with Merrill Lynch, and also turned down Jeffrey's offer at the Federal Reserve Bank in Richmond. She had opted for an analyst position covering health care and biotechnology at T. Rowe Price. I was concerned about where she might live in Baltimore. While parts of the city are very safe, if you go one street over, trouble looms. We searched for a high-rise apartment with security in the financial district and found one that suited. It was a loft on the fourteenth floor, but it was heavily secured and always watched by camera.

Each of them had a successful fall and winter. Liam had played on a traveling "fall-ball" league until the weather got too cold in late October. Isabella was busy perusing 8K's, 10K's and Annual Reports. When she wasn't at work, she was reading the work of other analysts and doing her own analysis as well. She was up for the challenge, and picked some undiscovered market winners for the quarter ending December 31st.

Each of them came home for the holidays and stayed until January 5th. They each had some time to catch up with friends and we talked about what we would do for the summer. We had all; all three of us, decided we would return to Casa Amor. Isabella had to get permission to work remotely, but she plated-up the idea in such a way to her boss that he agreed. Reluctantly, but positively. Isabella would do some of her best work over the next four years at Casa Amor.

I pondered where they would end up. "Would Isabella return to graduate school and get an MBA or Law degree"?  "And what would Liam major in?" These were the thoughts I had regularly at home.

That summer was probably the most relaxing of my life. We ate like kings and queens, frolicked on the beach, the kids played volleyball each day and basketball each nite at the house.

At the end of the summer, as promised, Isabella and I sat down to go over the pros and cons of her job prospects. She was leaning toward T. Rowe Price in Baltimore, Maryland. They had offered her a junior analyst position in the equities department covering the health care sector. She would be responsible for analyzing the prospects for "Big Pharma" and the much smaller biotechnology companies. She was excited about the latter; as covering the prospects for Pfizer and Viagra as opposed to the up-and-coming prospects to squash cancer and Parkinson's disease as medicine progresses, this was much more her speed.

I on the other hand, thought she would be a perfect fit for Bank of America/Merrill Lynch. She would have the opportunity to build a business from the ground up. And if she was asked to be a part of a team of advisors, she would learn at an exponential rate and get paid a very decent living for doing so. Plus, she would have a direct impact on the lives of people, one of her strengths.

During the summer, we had to take a week off to go and find Liam a college. He was interested in private schools. There was the Virginia Military Institute, Middlebury College, Darmouth, Penn, and one public university, the University of Alabama. Roll Tide! Liam was leaning toward Middlebury. It was a small college of less than 3,000 students. I had a preference for VMI.

We visited all five in one week, spending a day at each college. We checked out the dormitory rooms, the library, student activities, met with the baseball coach at each, and met with the advisors in the biology and chemistry departments. In the end, Middlebury would win.

Thankfully, cost would not be an issue, and instead of there being a cost, Liam would have an allowance. I would send him $3,000 monthly that I had hoped he would use wisely. I had already figured that he would spend time in the brew pubs more so that Belle had, but I knew he would be responsible.

I would return to Casa Amor the next summer.

Isabella graduated from William & Mary Summa Cum Laude and at the same time Liam was graduating high school. Each of them were at the top of their class, respectively and were ready to do big things.

Belle had been offered several opportunities. Locally with Dixon Hughes Goodman, and nationally with Price Waterhouse Cooper, Merrill Lynch/Bank of America, T. Rowe Price, the Federal Reserve in Richmond and a private equity firm in Charlotte. It would be a hard decision.

We decided not to decide until the last week at Casa Amor. We left for Casa Amor in late May and would stay until late August. This time, we would spend less time at the beach and more time buzzing around town. The kids were officially grown-ups and wanted to explore a bit. I was proud of Belle. She had focused on her studies and not on boys. That would come much later to mys surprise. Liam would begin dating first, I just had a feeling. Isabella had that "laser focus" that my late husband had for his career.

Even upon reaching Casa Amor, I decided not to reach out to Paul. While we would be in the same geographic location for the next few months, we had not left Disney on the best of terms. While we each had a good time, Paul only once reached out via email and a note in the mail after the holiday. It seemed as if the note and the email were "closing statements" toward the relationship.

It bothered me some, ut in the end, I was glad that I had guarded my heart and myself. I had refrained from giving all of me to him at Disney; and just as I thought, I feared that might make his decision. At any rate, I wanted to see the outcome of that, and if that was how he woud make his decision, I wanted to see it be made.

Circumstances aside, we arrived at Casa Amor. Silvio was thrilled to have me back and he was excited to return to Italy knowing that the house; his home in America, would be taken care of.

Once again, I would not take care of Casa Amor; rather, it would take care of me! 

She would start June 15th and the internship would run until September 9th, just before her last year at William & Mary.

Prior to this, she would take a heavy load of economics courses. Isabella mentioned that they were focusing more on theory; and of course, developing their own at the student level. While Isabella's focus was entrepreneurial economics, she was no stranger to the basic tenants of the many theories within the economic space; both past and present.

Her semester was tough. And while Isabella was busy studying, Liam was busy "knocking the ball out of the park"; literally. In eighteen games, he had fifteen home runs and forty runs-batted-in. He was selected for the All-Area All-Star team, and would play traveling baseball that summer. Bella would be hard at work, and Liam hard at play.

It was hard that summer to split my time between traveling baseball and with Belle in Richmond. I did my best to go to Richmond every two weeks, and stay the weekend. Liam had a much busier schedule that kept me on the road. Because of this, I had to relax with Belle on the weekends in Richmond.

We had formed a tradition of having a "Girls Nite Out" on Saturdays. She had developed a taste for craft beer and wine, which was not far from Brady's footsteps. It seemed as though she was following them in lockstep. And not to go unnoticed, she was doing it seamlessly. Liam, too, was doing his very best on the baseball diamond. He typically had averaged one run a game and three RBI's. His batting average was a bit over .400; which is better than many professional players who have ever played the game.

That summer came and went. We were unable to return to Casa Amor. Silvio was additionally saddened that I did not return. Frankly, he had wanted me for a renter that summer because of the care that we had taken with Casa Amor. We gave it love and affection.

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That next Saturday, we ferried Isabella back to William & Mary. She had a meeting with our acquaintance who worked for the Federal Reserve Bank in Richmond the next Wednesday, as we might have an inside track on an internship.

I wanted to attend the meeting, so instead of returning to Asheville, Liam and I booked a room at the Ft. MacGruder Hotel and Conference Center for three nights. We would return late Wednesday, after the luncheon.

The three of us went to Busch Gardens on Monday after Isabella's only class which ended at 11:00 AM. The three of us rode roller coasters until we were about sick. We ate turkey legs and pizzas and really enjoyed each others company. I have always enjoyed seeing my kids smile, and Brady had taken us on many vacations with activities such as this.

Tuesday we ate dinner at a local Gastropub on the market square and spent time at the W & M bookstore; which was a Barnes & Noble property. Liam wanted a lanyard and sweatshirt from the college that his sister attended, so I obliged.

The meeting Wednesday was supposed to be in a relaxed atmosphere, but seemed more intense. While we felt we had the position "in the bag", Jeffrey mad Isabella work for it. He asked her questions about her economics views and what policies that were in place that she agreed and disagreed with. I was impressed by her answers, and felt like he made a good showing. At the end of the lunch, Jeffrey said, "I'll give you a try for three months".

Belle was ecstatic. You could see the smile and also the glow on her face. Working at the Federal Reserve Bank for a summer would really give her a leg up on the competition for graduate school or whatever she desired to do.

I felt relieved.

Mom,

The children and I have just returned from Disney. We had a fabulous time and Paul picked up most of the bill. He is kind, gentle, intelligent; and I believe, genuinely interested in me. He is also good with the kids, and they seem to have accepted him at the moment.

I, however, am not fully jumping in with both feet. I pondered giving myself to Paul on this trip and could not. While part of me wanted too, there was a bigger part of me which told me to wait; just one more time. I had spent the summer in Coronado and met him there, and now nine days away in the same room. My doubts won, and we will have to see where it goes.

This Saturday, I will taxi Isabella back to William & Mary, and Liam has a few months before baseball season starts. He was an All-Area recipient at both the tailback and receiver slots.

I am proud of both of my children and continue to be amazed. Isabella has chosen Economics as her major at W & M, and I think tat Liam will attend a private college as well. We will be "running the gauntlet" this summer trying to pick the right college.

My hesitancy with Paul is in part the distance. If both of the children were in college, perhaps Paul and I could live part-time in Asheville and part-time in La Jolla, California. There is plenty to do there with San Diego in the back yard and Coronado Beach within fifteen minutes. I plan to return to "Casa Amor" next summer if Silvio will have me. I will book in March.

Sixty seemed ok, but I can feel a subtle decline as the number grows. I will be sixty-four by the time Liam enters college and Isabella will graduate. I pray that she does a summer internship and goes onto graduate school, but I can see her entrepreneurial spirit growing and growing each day.  She may enter the business world and get her employer to pay for her MBA or law degree.

More later, as I must get Isabella packed.

With Love,

Stephanie

Disney never disappoints. I continued to have coffee overlooking the safari each morning with Paul and the children. Liam seemed to be awestruck each morning and watched the animals intently. Isabella and I would laugh at the quirky things we saw, and at just the pure amazement of the animals before us. Paul was a little like Liam, enjoying his coffee and taking it all in.

And we dined! And when I say dined; I mean to say, that we sampled some of the finest food on the planet. Jiko, Wolfgang Puck's, Boma, Sanaa, Victoria & Albert's; just to name a few. Paul and I continued our tradition of planning each evening and we talked about where we had been, where we were now, and where we felt we were going. I began to feel more comfortable with him, and to that end the sensations in my inner body and soul did as well.

Two nites before we were to leave, Paul was serious when he asked, "Stephanie, where do you see us going"? I had been contemplating this fact for three months. Paul had called initially when I got home from Casa Amor and then not for several weeks. He had then called Thanksgiving Day and proposed this trip. Despite the lack of constant, or at least regular communication, I felt in my heart that Paul did genuinely want to move forward. Lord knows he did not "bat an eye" while dropping thousands of dollars on hotel and dining accommodations on this trip. Despite all this, I knew what his underlying question was as well.

I still was not ready to "let down my guard" with Paul, and he would have to understand or move on. In my mind, the thoughts of Brady would never leave nor did I want them too. Brady would want me to be happy, but I also wanted me to be happy. In some respects, I was ready to make love to Paul, and on the other hand I was not. He seemed sympathetic and understanding to my answers, but I could see an air of disappointment on his face. He would have to wait, or move on.

The end of the trip soon came. The highlight being the fireworks at Epcot on New Year's Eve, it was hard to imagine being anywhere else in the world at that point. Paul estimated Disney's budget for fireworks that evening at $5-10M. I had no doubts.

As we left the baggage claim in Charlotte, I turned around nearly five times to look at Paul. He was waiving each time, and I could see a glimpse of sincere loss and that of a goodbye. "Was this the end", I thought? I would soon know.