It was traditional Italian with a wonderful flair for the extraordinary. I could immediately understand why this was considered a gem within the restaurant scene in Killington. We all decided on the same meal as it was a clear choice. Braised Wild Boar with bow tie pasta. The boar was done perfectly as it literally fell apart when meeting the edge of a fork. The pasta was homemade and one could tell that it was made fresh that day. With a garnish of rosemary, the entire dish paired well with the Brunello di Montalcino that we had ordered. Dinner was amazing, but we didn’t stay for dessert. The men had scheduled one more event for the evening. Enter the Pickle Barrel Night Club. With four bars, three levels, and two stages, this particular entertainment complex was sure to please our appetites for entertainment and make for an unforgettable ending to our trip to Vermont.

                

On that particular evening, they had several comedians scheduled in the comedy club and live music from a local band. In another area of the nightclub, there was a DJ to provide a forum for dancing. We first enjoyed the comedy and then went dancing. The local band was first on our list for dancing and then we finished the evening dancing to the DJ. Brady was athletic and also had rhythm. We danced until nearly 1:00 A.M. The night had gone by too fast, as morning would come early and the beginning of the end of our vacation was near.

                

I decided that I was not going to let my affection for Brady go unnoticed. As he said goodnight and retreated to his room, I too bid him goodnight. However, I had secretly planned to go and visit him shortly. I went ahead and did all the things I needed to get ready for bed. I was in need of a shower since I had been dancing for several hours. I showered and shaved my legs. Dried off, applied a scented lotion and pulled back my hair. Finally, I brushed my teeth and took one final look in the mirror before exiting my room for Brady’s.

                

I caught him by surprise as I knocked on the door. I entered and he was wondering what I was there for. I explained that with his commitment made to me that I felt we should spend the evening together. My explanation was more in my actions than my words. I crawled into bed with him and asked him just to hold me. He agreed, and we caressed and kissed each other before lying down to go to sleep. I felt secure in his arms, and while we did not make love that evening, I could feel a sense of connectedness to him all evening. It was not long at all after I closed my eyes that I fell into a deep sleep.

                

Morning came too quickly. We decided to have breakfast before getting on the road for the long drive back to Roanoke. We found a quaint little café, and I had my last waffle with Vermont syrup. It had become my standby during our stay. As I sat there in the café, I took time to reflect on the events of the week. Most importantly, it was the memory of Brady in the art glass store as he had asked me to commit myself to him that was at the forefront of my mind. We had enjoyed many things during the trip; the skiing, the evening in the hot tub with snow falling on our heads, the restaurants and good conversations over dinner, but it was that moment in time with Brady that I remembered most.

               

                

Not a minute went by it seemed that we did not have something to talk about on the way home. Jack and Rona were on their way back to Knoxville, Tennessee, and we were on our way back to Roanoke. For a while, we were able to drive in tandem with each other. We planned to have lunch with them one last time during the trip home. We stopped at a Cracker Barrel in Pennsylvania and this would be the last time we would see each other for some time. As we got back in our cars after lunch, hugs and kisses were given. Additionally, Rona explained how excited she was for Brady and I. We were beginning a new relationship after all, and she was happy for me.

                

The drive was not as bad as I thought. While it was nearly twelve hours, it didn’t feel like we had wasted a whole day in the car because of the conversations we had. We talked about our next vacation ideas and what they might be. I suggested a summer getaway to somewhere that I could be in the sun and wear a bikini; but you probably already knew that this suggestion would be at the top of my list. Brady was even ok with the idea of taking me somewhere where I could shop. He was just an all-around good guy. I could see myself with him for many years to come if God would allow it.

                

Twelve hours later, we pulled up to my place. Brady had just less than thirty minutes to go home, and we both needed a day of rest before going back to work. It had been a memorable week for me and I felt that it lived up to Brady’s expectations as well. As he drove away, I was calm, but at the same time missing him at that very moment. I did not want him to leave. Surely we would get together the following week for lunch, but for me that wouldn’t be soon enough…or so I thought.

               

It seemed hard to go back to work after a week in Killington. Monday was a long and arduous day, but I made it through. That evening Rona called. I explained that Brady and I had talked the whole way home from the restaurant to Roanoke. It seemed as if we never missed a beat. We also had spent time listening to music and singing along when we knew the words. We talked for what seemed to be hours that evening, reminiscing about our blunders on the slopes, the time spent in the hot tub, the restaurants we had eaten at and the late nite conversations by the fireplace. Sadly, it was hard to come back to my more than empty fridge and attempt to re-create something of value compared to the scrumptious vittles we had had on vacation.

                

Brady called on Tuesday, and as normal, we met for lunch. I could tell that something was pressing when we met. He seemed somewhat distracted and even a little bit removed as we talked over salads. Much to my surprise it was a good distraction. After taking some time to get his words together, he explained that he both wanted and needed to move our relationship forward. He wanted to pin me down a bit.

               

I was all for it, so decided to take things to the next level. I had made a commitment in my mind during our time in Vermont, and was prepared to move forward, however; I was waiting on Brady to make that particular decision. Over lunch, I invited him to come over to my humble abode after work and I would cook for him. I suggested 7:30 PM, giving myself a little time to make it to the grocery store after work.

                

I drove to the Fresh Market after work and had decided on fish. I would buy a bottle of buttery Chardonnay to go along with salmon, some cous cous and asparagus. It seemed like a well-rounded meal to me, light and fresh. I did not want to set the bar too high on the idea that I would have to continue to cook for him, hopefully, for the rest of my life, God willing.

                

Brady made it to my home around 7:15PM. I appreciated that he was early, but not too early. I knew in my heart that I wanted him to stay the night, but was not prepared to ask. I decided to let the nite play out and just see where things led. Undoubtedly, I was not going to let Brady attempt to drive home after one too many a glass of wine. When he approached the door, I could see a flower and a bottle of vino in hand. He had brought a Pinot Grigio and a Rose’, as he was unsure as to what I was cooking that evening. He did, however, err on the side of caution by staying on the lighter side of the spectrum with respect to wine choices. Perhaps as a sign of understanding, he stayed away from the bold reds like a Malbec or Cabernet Sauvignon, knowing and drawing a parallel toward not being to bold. “Great choice, Brady”, I thought to myself. And I additionally voiced it in words as he stepped in.

               

I’m not sure how he knew, but he had brought me my favorite flower. I have been a fan of Orchids since the first time I saw them. They are delicate, intricate, simple, colorful; and of course, beautiful. Brady had brought me one from a local florist and had chosen a white five-star prong leafed Orchid with a light peach and pink hue.

               

I place the Orchid as a centerpiece on the table. We sat at my breakfast nook, and there was just enough room for two. Brady suggested that we open the Chardonnay that I had purchased and that we save the Pinot Grigio and Rose’ for our next dinner. I cranked the oven up to 350 degrees and prepared the salmon with light salt, pepper and a splash of teriyaki sauce which I lightly brushed on for taste. The asparagus would take twelve minutes exactly as I had perfected the way to make it so that it comes out crisp every time. I had gotten to the point where I even ask at restaurants when I dine out to cook it my way. I season the asparagus with salt pepper and olive oil. I also add a few Portobello mushrooms for flavor and place it in the oven in a rolled up, closed, paper bag for exactly twelve minutes. Grains are always a challenge, but I delivered a perfect cous cous that evening.

               

Over dinner, we too reminisced about our skiing adventure in Killington, Vermont. We had only been home for three days and it seemed as if I needed another vacation. At the very least, I desired deep in my heart to have another vacation with Brady. We revisited the idea of a summer vacation, and had decided on Anguilla. A ten day vacation would be the order of business this time. “Back to the gym”, I thought to myself. More Pilates and Yoga for the next three months, and lots of core exercises so I would be ready and prepared to look my best for Brady!

               

Jack and Rona would have to stay behind this time, as this was designed to be a romantic getaway for just the two of us, no pun intended. The Carribean is a beautiful and magical place. As we talked about the planning process over dinner, my mind drifted to thoughts about the clear water, white-sandy beaches and laying in a cabana while watching the waves crash across the shoreline. I would have to wait for several months, but I was already starting to get excited as we ate our dinner.

We started off the morning slow by traversing a few of the less daunting hills. I was no expert to start with and was not going to be an expert by the end of the week either, but I made a point to give it my best and let the chips fall where they may. After a few of the less difficult slopes, we moved up to an intermediate slope. After a few runs, I felt like I was doing a better job of keeping my balance and staying on top of my skis through turns. On this slope, however, there were moguls. For those of you unfamiliar with this term, they are simply small to large hills of snow within the larger scope of the slope itself. One is supposed to be able to navigate these as easily as the slope itself by working your way through them in a snake-like or s-type fashion. This was a challenge for me, so I did the best I could. I found myself on my backside on a few occasions and felt like the intermediate slopes may get the better of me throughout the duration of the week. But, if by some stroke of luck I could conquer them, it would be quite a feat.

                

Brady was good about giving me tips. He would go ahead of me in the pattern that I might take as if I was planning my own route down the slope. He would go one hundred or on some occasions up to three hundred yards ahead and I would follow. He was a good teacher and paid specific attention to my balance, ability, and the overall growth in my learning curve on top of a pair of skis.

                

Around noon, he suggested that we go into the lodge for a bite to eat and a hot chocolate. Having spent three hours in the cold, I was beginning to feel the sting of the winter weather against my face. As we sat down, we talked about our morning on the slopes. We had conquered the beginner slopes and I felt like I was getting a handle on the intermediate hills. As I wrapped my hands around the hot chocolate, I could feel the warmth radiate to other parts of my body. While I was never cold to the point of needing serious shelter in a hurry, it was nice to get back to room temperature.

                

We both shared the sentiment that a vacation in the middle of tax season was just what we needed. Even more so, I needed to feel the comfort of someone that I admired, felt I could trust, and additionally felt like a relationship could blossom into an unending love. I adored Brady, and I believe it radiated from my face. I was beginning without a doubt to fall in love again. We sat in the lodge for over an hour and we decided to brave the winter weather for a short afternoon session. Brady suggested at lunch that we cut our day a bit short so as to have some time alone at the chalet before dinner.

                

After a few more cracks at the intermediate slopes, I was ready for the hot tub. I suggested to Brady that we find a wine shop and take a bottle back with us to the chalet to enjoy in the hot tub prior to dinner. He had no reservations, so we packed up our gear in the car and headed toward town to a local wine shop. I wanted something light so we agreed to go with a Kim Crawford Sauvignon Blanc from the Marlborough Valley of New Zealand. With grapefruit notes and the essence of stony soils evident, it was just what we needed…something crisp and light on the palate. Off we went to the chalet, as a bathing suit was required for the hot tub.  Within minutes, we were sitting in one hundred and four degree water that was bubbling with enthusiasm. As we relaxed, we talked about what we should do for dinner. With that, Brady had another suggestion.

                Jack and Rona made it back to the chalet around 5:30 PM. They too were tired and sore, so they decided to soak with us for a few minutes. We decided to go to dinner around 7:00 PM. As Jack and Brady talked about their day on the slopes, Rona and I raved about the multiple nose-dives that we had taken. Within minutes, the conversation turned to food. Brady explained to Jack and Rona that he had spent several hours prior to making the journey to Vermont scoping out the local restaurant scene. Both Jack and Brady were hungry for something filling, see we decided to go out for steak.

                

Around 7:30 PM, we arrived at The Wobbly Barn. True to its name, this barn had likely been erected in the early 1900's. The name was painted in large red letters on the exterior with a black border. As we entered the place, the locals could easily tell that we were from somewhere else. They wore jeans with holes in them and flannel shirts; some with suspenders. We could be spotted a mile away as tourists. Nonetheless, we entered and were offered a table for four. The waitress was pleasant and spoke with a Northern accent. She could immediately tell that we were from South, and that bothered none of us. We were there to enjoy our evening.

                

We had come for steaks and that is exactly what we ordered. The men had rib eyes and we women had prime rib. To round out our dinner in style, we ordered an expensive Cabernet Sauvignon, which I was surprised that the place offered one. Our conversation was light, but enjoyable. Not knowing what else to talk about, the men talked about their day on the slopes and then it turned to work. Why is it that men have to talk about work? Rona and I kept our conversation to our day on the slopes and what we might do with the rest of our time in Vermont. Undoubtedly, we would spend some time on the slopes, but we wanted to explore the town some and possibly find a spa…always one of my favorite activities.

                

As dinner went on, we found the need to order another bottle of wine. We all passed on dessert and considered wine both our dessert and cordial. After about two hours, we decided that the locals had probably seen enough of us. It was time to go back to the chalet and rest. As we left the restaurant, the conditions outside were not favorable. The winds were high, and the snow was nearly blinding as we crept down the road toward our rented home for the week. We did manage to make it without consequence and it was time to unwind before bed.

                

Jack and Brady continued to talk about work as Rona and I rolled our eyes, but they seemed to be getting along like pals from college who hadn’t seen each other in a few years. Whatever made them feel comfortable, I guess? Rona had gone to the kitchen to make us some hot chocolate while Jack and Brady were working on getting the fireplace going. We stayed up rather late that night. We had only a few days left on our vacation and I was dreading leaving Brady and going back to work. This vacation had been so relaxing.

                

Morning came, and as usual, I was the first one out of bed. This bothered me not in the least as I had come to enjoy my quiet time in the morning. It was almost like being at home, except in a few minutes, Brady would wake up and come down and greet me. That morning, he did so and surprised me by giving me a kiss. I guess he felt comfortable in our relationship to start the day with that. I feel sure that I had a bit of a surprised look on my face after he had leaned in and then pulled away, but I also feel sure that it was a surprised look that was also accompanied by a smile. I could feel a progression in that kiss that morning. I just knew in my heart that we were moving in a positive direction.

                

Brady suggested that we go shopping that morning. He offered to take me to breakfast somewhere downtown and then visit the local shops to see what we might find. Since I am not one to turn down a day of shopping, I readily accepted. We started with breakfast at Sugar and Spice. In addition to being a restaurant, this shack also was a place where you could see Vermont Maple Syrup being boiled and made. Since we were in Vermont, I felt the need to stray away from Eggs Benedict in favor of the local maple syrup. So I ordered waffles and tea.

                

Shortly after breakfast, we found ourselves downtown in a small shopping district. While the most popular shops in the square were for skiing equipment, the district was peppered with shops by local artisans and patrons. There were stores where you could buy art, candles, clothes, stained and blown glass and even cheese. When Brady walked into Fire On the Mountain Glass, I knew he was up to something. The shop keeper greeted him with a friendly hello that suggested he had been there previously. I would find out later that he had indeed. He knew what he was there for. Knowing my love of flowers, he walked over to a blown glass vase and said to the shop keeper that we would be taking this piece.

                

I was enamored at the thought, as I could immediately tell that he had picked the piece out especially for me. It was white with swirls of green and blue which started at the base and continued to the top which had a flowered edge itself. I was beautiful, and I knew not what to say. He continued as he presented it to me by saying that it was a gift to a new beginning. He stated that he wanted our relationship to be official and exclusive, and that this gift would be a promise and a reminder that he would keep it filled with fresh flowers. His words nearly pierced my heart. At that moment, there was an explosion of emotions that ran through me. I was truly ready to begin a new relationship, and his words and my inward feelings to them had sealed the deal. I was in fact, in love.

                

Glowing like a white Christmas light, we left Fire On the Mountain and proceeded to duck in and out of stores one by one. I could not have been happier at that moment, as I had not felt close to anyone in this manner for quite some time. I could feel a spring in my step as we walked up and down the street. At around lunch time, we traveled back to the chalet for a quick sandwich and then off to the slopes. We had come to ski with Jack and Rona, and that was what we should do. We met them on the mountain around 1:00 PM. Rona and I went off on our own so the men could try and break their arms and legs on the advanced and expert slopes. We were not at all inclined to attempt such things, and considered them nonsense; but boys will be boys.

We met back at the chalet around 5:00 P.M. We had made plans earlier to stay in and cook dinner, but Jack and Brady suggested that we go out. Since it was our last evening in Vermont, Rona and I had no objections. Peppino’s Ristorante Italiano was the place that we would dine. 

I immediately dialed the phone and reached my mother at home. I explained that I had received flowers and that it was from someone that I had met at the company Christmas party. She immediately wanted all the details, and I was quick to share. This undoubtedly could be the beginning of something fresh and new, and I wanted her to feel a part of it.

                

As I went about the rest of my day, I was all smiles. I was light on my feet and the women in the office knew that something was happening that made me cheerful. They each noticed the roses, and had many questions as to who the lucky guy might be that I would soon to give my affection to. I cautioned them, that it would be a slow process for me to learn to love again.

                

Brady called that afternoon to confirm the delivery of his gift. I was excited to hear his voice and since the office was slow just yet, I had time to chat. He invited me to lunch on Friday and I was quick to accept. He suggested Table 50, which was actually one of my favorite places for Sunday brunch. It was a date.

                

Friday couldn’t come quick enough. I did my best to stay on top of my work, but thoughts of Brady kept creeping into my mind at a flurrying pace. It was winter now, and as I would enjoy the warmth of my hands around a hot cup of tea while looking out the window from my office, I thought of him. Friday did come, but not quickly. For some reason that morning, I decided to pass on black and white which was the normal attire for a day at the office for me and opted for navy blue. While at the Mall of America with my mother a few months back, I had purchased a dress in navy that had a nice skinny black belt that was slimming around the waist. We met at Table 50 just a little after twelve. He explained that he too had been excited for this lunch date, as it had been some time since the Christmas party. I ordered a steak salad with blue cheese crumbles and he had a bacon cheeseburger. I could tell that his metabolism had been good to him over the years.

                

We talked mostly about our roots. It seemed as if we had some of the same values. He was also a Southern Baptist and took his mother to church every Sunday. His father had died young of a heart attack, so it was he and his mother. Like Graham, he was an only child. Unlike Graham, he was not selfish. I could see in him some things that I didn’t see in Graham. Perhaps at the outset, I was critical; but my critique was producing positive results. In areas where I hoped Brady would behave in a certain way, he did already. I would never have to ask for him to open a door for me, or to go to church. He already did those things. I also felt that if he was dear to his mother, he would endear me as well.

                

I went a little over my allotted time for lunch, but Crook would have to understand. After spending my early twenties as a married woman, dating in my thirties seemed different. I seemed to qualify people more by their actions than there words. And by saying this, I mean Brady; because there was never anyone even remotely significant between him and Graham. In fact, there really hadn’t been anybody, as I had only gone to social outings with close friends. After lunch, Brady asked without a sense of hesitation that he wanted to see me again. I agreed that we should get together soon, and promised that I would call him in a few days.

               

                

That Saturday, I went to visit my mother. She was excited to hear that lunch had gone well. I explained to her how I thought there was something different about Brady, but I wasn’t prepared to make assumptions or judgments. We spent a good bit of the afternoon talking as I did my laundry. She and Dad were well, but they were concerned about my brother, Randy. He was stuck in Minnesota because of an ice storm that was plaguing the upper Midwest. I assured her that God would take care of him. She agreed, as she said that she knew that that statement was true within her heart as well, but she was a mother after all…and mothers worry.

                

I had just poured Mom and me a cup of tea when my cell phone rang. It was Randy and he wanted to make sure that Mom knew that he was alright. They were going to be delayed overnight, but he would be able to fly in the morning. This was a reassurance for mom. She asked me to describe Brady and I did the best I could. I also explained that he was an only child and I wondered if he would be selfish like Graham, but I had doubts of a positive nature. He seemed conscious of the fact that I would be willing to further the relationship, but only at a slow pace. I may have even mentioned this fact. I told him so many things, that I could not remember all that I had said. I was vague as to the true reason for my divorce, as any guy would wonder how I had been so naïve as to not know, understand, or suspect that something was not right given the lack of physical affection alone. With time and comfort, I reasoned that I may tell him, but at this point, I was unsure.

                

I enjoyed my visit with my mother and I went home around six. Sometimes I stayed overnight on Saturday, but this evening I decided to go home. I was lying in bed reading a book when the phone rang. I wondered who it might be as I had already talked to my brother earlier that day, and had visited Mom and Dad. It was Brady. He explained that he knew that we had just had lunch yesterday, but he wanted to call and talk. It was a Saturday evening that he too was spending alone and wanted some company, even if it was over the other end of the phone.

                

He called around nine. By the time I hung up the phone it was after midnight. I, personally, would have stayed on the phone longer, but the battery on my cell phone had died. That night we talked about our hobbies, where we liked to go on vacation and what we did for recreation. Brady was a hunter, which was not normal I thought for an accountant. I did feel that it was some place that he and my Father could bond. We both had a love for the ocean and fine dining. He was a wine lover like myself, and preferred wine to other alcoholic drinks. He stated that a nice glass of wine after a hard day at the office was usually well earned. His mother had taught him to cook, which was something that Graham had neither the skills nor the desire to do. We were beginning to learn about each other quickly, but my heart still told me to take things slow.

                

He invited me to go out with him the following weekend, but I had a prior commitment. I was attending the symphony with my parents. We agreed to get together in a couple of weeks.

               

               

About mid-January, a flurry of activity became the norm at the office. While there were plenty of clients that we knew would be filing extensions, we were gaining new clients that would need our services between now and April. It was clear to me that I would be busy until February at a minimum and might not see Brady. He was patient through it all and we finally decided to go to a Valentine’s Day ball at the Hotel Roanoke.

                

Instead of my usual black and white, I went shopping and purchased a red floor-length dress. It was satin and had a bit of a ruffle from the waist at an angle toward my toes. Nothing drastic, but enough to compliment the shape of the garment. I chose white pearls to wear around my neck and earrings to match. Brady wore a tuxedo. Graham and I had attended the event only once, but I had pleaded with him each year to go. He was not much of a social butterfly and always had an excuse. Brady on the other hand thought it was good for business to be around people that appreciate the arts and additionally fund-raisers for causes that he felt he could support. This year, the money was going to the Cancer Center at Carilion Hospital. As we danced, he held me close. I had worn a special perfume that I hoped he would notice. I hadn’t figured Brady for a dancer, but he surprised me. He was an athlete in high school and I suppose this is where he got some of his rhythm. The evening was perfect and I needed to feel the embrace of new man.

On Sunday after church, I wrote him a letter.

Brady,

Thank you for making my Saturday evening special. I have attended this event only once in the past even though I have wanted to go each year. I appreciate your understanding of my need to take things slow. Being a divorcee at thirty was something I never would have dreamed that I would say or even write down on a piece of paper. I want you to know that you made me feel special. I have always enjoyed dressing for a special evening out on the town. To that end, I have to give you thanks. You made me feel alive for just a moment, and for that I am grateful.

Stephanie

                

He received the letter on Tuesday and called the office. I had an idea that I thought would not be possible, but I shared it with him anyway. The simple fact that we both worked in accounting might keep us from getting away in March. I proposed the idea of going away for a weekend to go skiing with a friend of mine from college and her boyfriend. He jumped at the chance, but said he would have to find a way to get away from the office. I too, knew it would be a challenge, but I had faith that it could work.

                

The next day, I walked into Gabriel’s office and announced that I needed to take a few days for a short vacation. Previous to this, I had asked the junior accountants to take over some of the returns for me in exchange that I would help them with some after my return. They agreed. To my surprise, Gabriel approved my request. Now, it was up to Brady to find the time off at his firm. It took him two days, but one evening after to work when he called, stating he had something important to tell me.

               

Immediately my mind turned toward something wrong, and he even played it up a little bit as if that were the case. He then blurted out in a loud and boisterous voice that we were indeed going to Vermont. In my mind, I was already shopping and packing for the trip. It was a month away, as we were slated to go in late March. I could hardly believe that it was going to happen. I felt lucky, and perhaps I was in love.

                

I tried my best not to let my feelings run away with me. But as the trip got closer and closer, I became more anxious about what this weekend away might mean to our relationship. Brady and I continued to have lunch on Friday afternoons and we sometimes met for coffee on Saturday mornings before I would go to visit my parents. I could tell that he was excited as he had done his homework. He was planning our dinners at local restaurants that he thought we would enjoy. But I had forgotten the most important step in the process. I called Rona in a panic that Saturday afternoon and made sure that I was still invited as she had stated in the fall. To my relief, she said she would love to make it a couples outing and was excited to meet Brady. It was probably a good thing that I had called her on Saturday, as we had much to catch up on.

               

Her relationship with Jack was becoming more serious, as she explained her senses were heightened like those of a mature cat. She just could feel in her bones that something big was going to happen in Vermont, and she was glad that I was going to be there to share it with her. With a week left before our departure, it was time to go shopping. I was not an expert skier by any means, but I felt like I should at least have my own equipment for the trip. I tried my best to stay within a budget- which never happens- but my impulses got the best of me again. My skis were six-hundred dollars, poles were sixty, hats were fifty for two, and gloves were forty, a scarf for seventy-five, and finally a jacket and pants appropriate for the weather was three-hundred. Within thirty minutes I had spent easily over fifteen hundred dollars once I added some other accessories. This had better be the trip I was hoping for.

                

Brady and I had negotiated to leave for the trip on a Tuesday. Jack and Rona had gone ahead of us by two days, starting their week-long vacation on Sunday. We were lodged in a beautiful A-frame chalet nestled within a small community of similar homes at the top of one of the peaks of the ski resort, Killington. Killington, Vermont, is a small town with a population just under one-thousand residents. This made the atmosphere very cozy for us and our counterparts to spend some quality time together. Our stay included everything from a heated pool and sauna, fireplaces within our cottage with an outdoor hot tub, to cheese making classes and Maple syrup tastings. It was the best that Vermont had to offer, and we were here to reap the benefits.

                

Jack and Rona were quick to make us feel welcome upon our arrival. It had been a long drive from Roanoke, and we had plans of getting in the hot tub that evening to soothe some of the rough spots that driving all day will do to you. Jack and Brady seemed to hit it off. Before agreeing to all get into the hot tub, I sat down with a hot chocolate on the hearth of the fireplace to warm up with Rona. When we arrived that evening, it was a blustery nineteen degrees. Jack and Brady found two chairs near us and the fireplace and talked business. For some reason with guys, the first questions asked in getting to know someone pertains to work. Perhaps this is an easy place to start. Once upon a time, they were all cavemen, so this question was unnecessary, right? Just kidding.

                

Rona and I too talked about work, but it was more light-hearted and less about qualifying each other based on what we do and for whom we provide our services to. Rona and I knew what each other did, so it was mainly chit-chat. We talked more about the others that we work with than about our actual work. After Jack and Brady had come to know each other on a professional level, it was time to get down to the business of relaxation. Not long after I finished my hot chocolate, Rona announced that it was time to get into our bathing suits.

               

  One of the accessories that I had purchased for the trip was a new two-piece Ralph Lauren bathing suit. I could tell by the look on Brady’s face that he was enjoying it. He and Jack were looking quite well on their own account. Rona also had a two-piece bathing suit on that was bright pink. Jack had taken the liberty of bringing out four glasses and a bottle of champagne. We made a toast to good friends and a good week of relaxation in Killington. As I looked at Brady and as he looked back, we exchanged smiles the entire evening. While Jack and Rona were sharing a room, Brady and I were not. I thought about the option of surprising him later in the week by sneaking over to his room and crawling into bed with him, but I had yet to decide if the time was right. I felt like this week could be an anchor to our relationship, or at least a building block. I was excited to see how the week would unfold. As we sat in the hot tub, the snow began to fall on our heads. As I looked up through the fluttering snowflakes, I could see the stars high above us. They were bright, and it felt magical. If only every evening could be like this one. No worries, no cares, champagne in hand and spending time with people you adore and care for.

               

  After another bottle of champagne, we all came to the realization that if we were going to make it out of bed and on to the slopes the following day, we had better call it a night. Brady was kind and acted like a gentleman. He asked me to spend a few minutes with him talking beside the fireplace before bed. As the remains of the wood flared, I could see our relationship deepening. Could the burning in the fireplace be a reflection of what was taking place in my heart? I wondered and pondered on that idea as I crawled into bed after a kiss on the forehead from Brady.

                

The next morning, I awoke feeling completely restored. The hot tub and the champagne had done its trick and I was prepared for a day on the slopes. At breakfast, I ordered waffles with pure Vermont maple syrup. Along with them, I had a small bowl of oatmeal and a cup of fresh fruit. I was ready to brave the cold weather and try out my new equipment.

                

I had taken the time to do a little research prior to making my purchases for the slopes. I knew I had good quality materials that would keep me warm and hopefully on my feet. Brady was no stranger to any sport, so I knew it would be tough to keep up with him. Over breakfast I explained that I had only been skiing one other time and that I may require some patience with respect to navigating the slopes. He nodded in understanding, and at that I knew he would be right by my side.

I needed to do laundry, so I drove into Roanoke to get what I needed to do and returned. When I arrived home, I unloaded the car and took in the bags that I had accumulated while shopping with Rona the day before. I had enough clothes that I would not need to return, but I needed the comfort and love that Mom and dad could provide. I stayed until after dinner. Mom had cooked pork chops, mashed potatoes and green beans. It was nice to come home to a meal prepared by my mother and it really made me feel some relief. When my laundry was finished, I returned home to an empty house. When I had left earlier, I had purposely left a light on in the foyer or hallway as it were so as to trick myself into thinking that I was not alone. The stark reality of the situation was beginning to sink in. I was alone.

               

A shower made me feel better and afterward, I curled up with a good book and a cup of tea in bed. Reading has always been a relaxing activity for me, and tonight was no different. I had a big day tomorrow as I would go through the phone book to try to land an interview. With my book almost half finished, I picked a good stopping point and lay down to sleep alone in a cold bed. It was not long before I warmed up, but this was not the warmth that I felt when Graham had laid next to me for the past six years.

                

I woke early as I normally had and sat down with the phone book. I knew that I wanted to stay with what I knew, which was accounting. There were several firms in town, some large and some small. I decided that I would enjoy a smaller firm as I had worked for my father which was a small business. As I combed through the phone book, I chuckled as I saw a listing for Crook & Chase. I could not simply gloss over the page as I laughed out loud, but decided I would give them a call. To my surprise they had just had their office manager leave the practice for another position which they needed to fill. I explained a little about my background and they offered me an interview the following day.

                

With an interview in place I decided that the rest of the day would be filed with errands. I took time to get a haircut, my nails done and even indulged in a facial. I was going to go in there tomorrow looking proper and polished. After all, this was the first job interview I had ever attended, and I needed to be at my best. After returning home, I made a cup of tea and headed for the closet. I thought a mini-skirt may be too sexy, so I opted for a pants suit. You can never go wrong with a pants suit, right? I reasoned that this was the case anyway. A black pants suit with a white top and some appropriate jewelry would fit the bill. I laid out my clothes that evening so as to avoid running around in the morning trying to make critical decisions. I even set my alarm clock for a half-hour earlier than normal to give me extra time in case I needed to re-do any final preparations such as ironing or touching up my make-up. Whether Crook or Chase, I was going to raise the bar for what expectations they might have.

                

I had set aside time in the morning to treat myself to breakfast. At 7:30 A.M., I went down to Ernie’s on Market Street. They do not serve Eggs Benedict, so I instead ordered a ham and spinach omelet. Their specialty at the restaurant is potato cakes, but I opted not to have one that morning. I wanted to feel like I had fulfilled my protein need with nothing heavy on top. I was proud of the way I looked that morning and made it through breakfast without getting nary a crumb on me. It was going to be a good day.

               

I arrived at the office of Crook & Chase at ten minutes until nine. I was to meet with them at 9:00 A.M. I walked in the door at five minutes till so as to be prompt but not so early as to interrupt anyone’s morning routine. Gabriel was Crook’s first name and as I waited in the foyer he walked down a half-spiraled staircase to introduce himself. He appeared to be in his mid-to-late thirties. He was not what I would call incredibly attractive, but he had a subtle confidence about himself. He was not thin, but looked as though he had seen a few beers in his life by the shape of his waistline. He had a strong chin and I caught a small hint of aftershave, even though it appeared as though he hadn’t shaven whatsoever. He was dressed for the part in a suit and tie and had a firm handshake.

The office was quaint, but nice. There were several offices downstairs and two upstairs for Crook and Chase. He explained after showing me to the conference room that they had just lost their office manager. My timing could not have been better. I explained a little about myself first at his request. I was honest about the fact that I had not finished my degree at Vanderbilt and instead offered the classes that were relevant to the situation and position at the firm. I further noted that I had been doing the books for a small engineering firm for nearly eight years. This was what impressed him most as many of his clients were small business owners. I explained further that I had not only done accounts payable and accounts receivable, but also the tax returns for my father’s business. At this point, I could see a small glimmer in his eyes. In the end, I thought this job interview thing was not so hard after all.

                

I thought he would have a must more critical and detailed list of questions for me, but I could tell he had a busy practice that needed some serious attention. He complimented me on my appearance and starting asking questions such as what I might expect in terms of pay and when I could start. So as not to seem too needy, he stated that he would like me to start the following Monday. I knew my Dad would be happy and if I asked he would let me work for him the rest of the week. I accepted.

               

 I had requested a slight raise from what I had been earning at my father’s business and to my surprise, Crook was agreeable to my request. My father agreed to let me work the rest of the week for him. I thought this was not only appropriate, but warranted. He too would have to find somebody to fill my shoes and I had just spent the last week in Knoxville with Rona. I agreed to help him interview some candidates so he would have a second opinion to fall back on for who would be suitable to the position within the family business. It was a short week and on Friday I sat down with two different ladies that had the required skills. In the end, my father chose one of them, and he too would have someone to fill my role on Monday.

                

Saturday was laundry day, but more importantly it was time with my mother. She was concerned for me and it showed. I had never really been alone, and certainly not under these circumstances. At her request, I answered some hard questions that morning, but it was really just my mother trying to gauge how I was doing. Some of them seemed a little personal, while others were just to make her feel better about the situation herself. She asked if I needed money to which I replied that I didn’t. She further asked if I needed help finding a lawyer to represent me. There was really not much to settle. And finally, she asked the big question. Did I have any desire to marry again? I think this was the one question that was troubling her the most, and I felt certain that inside of me it was the one that troubled me. However, I knew that I would someday marry again, as I wanted to find true love.

                

After I confirmed that I believed I would again marry someday, she sighed in relief. She knew this divorce was a big blow to my inner confidence. I felt sure that the divorce itself would be painless. There really wasn’t much to contest. We didn’t have much in the way of marital assets as we had lived in my apartment. Additionally, Graham was not going to receive anything from his father’s estate for a few years to come, so that was not an issue. The simple things would have to be done, such as removing my name from the joint checking account and a few other minor details. Since I had nothing to contest, and I felt sure he would want things to go smoothly, we decided to settle without counsel on either side. A simple filing of the appropriate paperwork, a few signatures and in six months I would be as free as a new eagle to fly my own course. I thought for a minute to myself that perhaps the person whom I would kiss under the mistletoe this coming holiday might be the one with whom I would find true love.

               

  My first few weeks on the job went fairly smoothly. I obviously had to be briefed on where everything could be located and what would be expected of me on a daily basis, but I felt sure I was up to the task. I knew how to take appropriate care of clients. Make them feel comfortable, show them to the conference room, ask them if they would like something to drink and explain that either Crook or Chase would be along shortly. Simple, right? Well, that part was at least. In the beginning, I was unaware that I would be doing a mountain of returns, or at least the ones that they deemed to be simple. I would have to bone up on and hone my skill set. I realized the need to further my education. Not knowing what else to do, I made a trip to Barnes & Noble to pick up a few books. There was “Business Accounting for Dummies”, “Corporations for Dummies”, and “GAAP (Generally Accepted Accounting Practices) for Dummies.” I knew I was in for a boat-load of fun reading those. Argh!

               

  I took my time reading over each volume. I typically read a few chapters each evening for several weeks. At times, I had to skip between volumes to find the section that I needed to complete the next day’s work.  I was sort of amazed at how fast I was able to learn what I needed to efficiently and effectively do my job. I made it through August, September and October fairly smoothly. This is the time when corporate returns are due when a person has filed for a corporate extension. I could now rest easy until January and enjoy the holidays.

                

There was no way to top Hollywood, but Mom felt like she needed to plan something special for our usual Thanksgiving mecca of shopping. We would go to the Mall of America in Minnesota. It was different having Thanksgiving Day without Graham, but I can’t say that I ever really remember him being thankful or in a cheerful mood. Perhaps two holidays had been permanently effected as having a negative connotation for him and his mother. I could only imagine. I was thankful that my parents were in good health and that my brother had had another successful year in the skies with no major issues to report. Mom and Dad were thankful for family and another successful year in business. While I could have felt like there was something missing on that day, instead I had a calm peace about the situation of being single again during the holidays.

               

                

The Mall of America was amazing and as usual I spent too much money. This time, I did not have a husband to purchase gifts for, so I spent more time encouraging Mom to splurge a little on Dad. At my request, she purchased a few extra things that year. I even decided to get something for Rona and Jack that I would mail to Knoxville. It was a cheese board set complete with a bamboo cutting board and several smaller utensils perfect for an afternoon picnic. I knew they would appreciate the gesture.

                

I had a hard time waiting until Christmas that year to exchange gifts. I was particularly excited to see Dad’s eyes as Mom had certainly purchased more for him that year than she had in years. I was a snowy Christmas Eve as I drove out to the farm. There were parties that I could have attended, but I was more interested in spending time with family. One of the things that Mom had purchased for Dad was a nice watch. He had worn the same one for what seemed to be at least ten years. As he opened the box, he stared intently at the contents inside. He could hardly believe that Mom had spent the money, but he was quietly excited inside I believe.

               

I spent much of Christmas Day by the window watching it snow. With a cup of hot chocolate in hand, the quiet nature of my home was relaxing. I must have sat in that window seat for hours. Finally, when Mom came over to ask what I was thinking about, I told her that I was thinking about everything and nothing. It was simply a day for reflection. I still had a Christmas party or two to attend, so perhaps the season would still have some surprises in store.

                

On the 27^th, we had scheduled the Crook & Chase Company Christmas party at 419 West. By now, there were five people in the office including me. Two junior accountants had joined the firm during the summer months prior to August. In addition to our corps, we had invited some clients and also some other industry professionals who had been instrumental in our business throughout the year. I had been the one in charge of making the invitations; mostly by phone, and I was excited to see just who I might meet.

                

There was a light dinner served and I had chosen prime rib. Mostly for the men, but I felt that the ladies attending may also enjoy a good slab of beef. As I mingled through the bar, I made sure to introduce myself to everyone who attended. These after all, were the individuals that I called on for favors or assistance throughout the year when we needed it.  I felt comfortable working the room that night and there were a few moments when I caught a glimpse from Crook. He would smile at me so as to say that he appreciated my efforts to make our clients and our associates feel good.

               

 At the end of the night, I was cleaning up a bit in the private room when a man walked up to me to introduce himself. He jokingly stated that we were under the mistletoe, but explained he did not yet expect such a delicate or intimate gesture. His name was Brady. He was an accountant at a competing firm in town. He was a bit shorter than me, but not too much to notice. His brown hair was parted to one side and he wore glasses. He was wearing a brown windowpane suit and a tie in the maroon red color of Virginia Tech. He stated that he had waited all night to introduce himself, but felt that I needed a breather before talking to one more person that evening. He had apparently asked Crook about me earlier in the night as he knew a little about my position and how long I had been at the firm. He further explained that it was nice to put a face to the voice that had been on the other end of the phone a week prior. He was new to Roanoke, but not new to the business. He had graduated from Virginia Tech and had been working as an accountant for nearly twelve years. Most of that time, he had been in a small practice in Blacksburg, Virginia. However, recently, he had been made an offer to join a larger firm as a partner in Roanoke. He accepted of course, as a partnership offer is not something you turn down. He also explained that he still had a house in Blacksburg and was commuting each day to Roanoke.

                

I didn’t want to show my hand, but I was immediately attracted to Brady. Here was someone that fit many, if not all of the criteria that I had desired. Working, stable, owned a home, had a secure job, pleasant and kind; and thankfully, straight! Or at least, I could surmise this fact from his small advance at the beginning of our conversation. I offered to buy him a drink as soon as I had finished cleaning up in the private room that we had reserved for the evening.

                

This was the first time that I had heard myself laugh since leaving Rona and Jack. Brady was adept at making me smile and was complimentary. While I had not expected to meet anyone special that evening, I felt as we talked that we might have some common ground after all. He explained that he had grown up in Blacksburg and even as a child wanted to attend Virginia Tech. I stated that my father was also a graduate from Virginia Tech and that I had worked for the family business prior to joining Crook & Chase this past year.  

                

One drink led to more and it seemed as though we had only been talking for a few minutes when the bartender called for the last round. We ordered one more, and then it would be time to go. As we stepped outside into the cold air, he offered me his card. He said that I could call at any time if I ever had a question about work or even if I just wanted to talk. I offered the same in return and he walked me to my car. He opened the door and asked if he could kiss me. I offered my cheek, and he leaned in slowly to kiss it. After doing so, he said goodnight and closed the door for me. I watched him leave as my car was warming up. As the thick frost on the windshield cleared, I felt a sense of renewal. Similar to the clearing of the ice and fog, I felt as if I may be getting a clearer picture into what the next chapter of my life might be like.

                I didn’t hear from Brady until after the New Year. I began to think he wouldn’t call. I went back to work on Monday, January 3^rd. Shortly after ten o’clock, there was a floral delivery. It was a bouquet of white roses and I wondered who they might be for, as the two junior accountants in the office were women. To my surprise, it was for me.

Stephanie,

I wanted to thank you for sharing part of your evening with me at the Christmas party. With your permission, I would like to take you to lunch one day soon at your convenience.

Regards,

Brady

With that prayer offered up to the heaven lies, I looked at my watch. I was now 11:30 A.M., and I wondered what I was going to do for the next five hours. Whatever it would be, a nap seemed like a promising proposition for the afternoon. I stayed a while longer at the park and passed away some time watching people. If I could be paid to watch the intricacies and interactions of what people do, how they do it, and to think about their thoughts prior to their actions, I would certainly take that job. People are such interesting creatures.

                Feeling the need to move on to another part of my day, I left the park. I found a shopping district in downtown which housed a plethora of eclectic little shops. Surely I would find something to hold my interest until I felt sleepy. In fact, if the shopping was good, that would carry me the rest of the afternoon until it was time to meet Rona back at her place. The first shop I entered was a Chocolatier. I reasoned that I was worth a few pieces of chocolate and ordered a few pieces. They were served on a nice silver platter small enough to hold a few chocolate pieces for one. Not having tea, I ordered a small coffee to go along with the yummy bites of chocolaty goodness. I had a piece that was sprinkled with curry dust. Another that was to mimic Kahlua. And finally one that was simply a plain-Jane dark chocolate from Africa.

                Upon leaving the chocolate shop, I was immediately attracted by a local shoe shop. It was rather large for the space, it seemed and they had everything from designer shoes, to sandals, to everyday walkers. Rona was a fan of Dansko shoes, as she wore them for her work in the medical field. I tried a few pair on, but they did not fit my foot as well as I would have liked. Personally, I am a fan of Clarks. They had quite a selection of Clarks, so I felt right at home. There was a pair of sandals and also a pair of lace-ups, and finally a slip-on that caught my eye. Not being able to decide, I purchased all three.

               

                 Now that I had found some shoes, I needed a few tops and a pair of pants or two. I was surprised to see a White House/Black Market in the downtown area and this would certainly fit the bill. As one of my favorite stores because of the simple fact that they get me and how I like to dress, this would be the last place that I needed to shop prior to returning to Rona’s place. A few pair of slacks, a mini-skirt and a few tops later, and I was officially a “bag-lady”.

                At times I can feel a little uneasy about splurging more than just a few dollars into the economy, but I needed the therapeutic feel that shopping brings to my life. I hailed a cab, and after a short ride to Rona’s place it was time for a nap. When I awoke, Rona was home and I heard the shower running. A few minutes later, she stepped out and woke me up by stroking my hair against my forehead. I had slept for a little over two hours, and now it was my turn to get ready. Rona suggested the mini-skirt that I had purchased that afternoon and also explained that she had a surprise for me that evening. There was someone she wanted me to meet.

                I was in the mood for steak, so she made a reservation at Ruth’s Chris steakhouse on the Waterfront. The atmosphere was perfect for an evening on the town and I was excited to meet her beau. Jack was an ear, nose and throat specialist in Knoxville. He and Rona had met at a conference at the University of Tennessee. She had gone for some kind of extra credit toward her residency and Jack was there to give a talk. Jack met us there around 6:30 P.M. He was tall, dark and handsome. He had grown up in Minnesota and then was accepted to the University of Tennessee for medical school a few years ahead of Rona. As he talked, I was engrossed in his words. He explained that Knoxville was home to some of the most advanced ear, nose and throat practices in the country because of the air quality. Unbeknownst to me, I was not aware that Knoxville sat in a valley in such a way that the smog from the surrounding high areas settled in the valley. This made for an area that has one of the poorest air quality ratings in the entire United States, and hence the prevalence for his specialty.

                As he talked, I was happy to listen, but at the same time, I longed for someone of his intellect in my life. He was young, vibrant, good looking and successful. Rona had reeled in a good catch. My steak was everything that I hoped it would be. Coupled with some asparagus slightly buttered and finished with olive oil, salt and pepper, it was the perfect compliment. Jack was engaging the entire evening. He and Rona had developed a strong relationship in a short amount of time. They had been dating for only eight months at this point. I would have guessed longer by the sincerity of their embrace toward one another and the way they seemed to be able to finish each other’s sentences.  I was happy for her, and at the same time longing for what she had.

                Jack had been forewarned that I was here to get away from my situation at home in Roanoke. He was kind enough to let me talk about anything that tickled my fancy, and never asked me any hard questions. He was polite and professional in his conversation. I thought to myself over dinner that it again was time for some serious change. I was unsure what that should be at the moment, so I squashed the thoughts as they came and decided I would deal with them tomorrow. I was here on this evening to enjoy Rona, Jack and my steak. After several bottles of wine, it was appropriate for us both to catch a cab. Jack went his own way, and Rona and I back to her place.

                We stayed up that night for quite some time as we had many nights when we were roommates in college. She told me about what she and Jack were planning, which at this point, was a vacation to go skiing in Vermont in the spring. She offered for me to come and join them. Initially, I declined, but said that I would keep the invitation in the back of my mind if it was still available in the spring. When Rona finally went to her room, I could feel the tears beginning to swell in my eyes. I made no noise that evening, but the tears streamed down my face as I lay there trying to go to sleep. I wiped them from my face from time to time as I wanted to feel happy for Rona. I wanted to, but I couldn’t.

                Having enjoyed my breakfast at Toast on Market the day before, I returned. They were not a bit surprised as I ordered Eggs Benedict and Chamomile tea. It was as if I had become a local having eaten there the day before. It felt nice to feel welcome. I resolved that today would be a good day. After breakfast, I went back to the park I had also been to the day before and decided to have a serious brainstorming session with myself about my life. I started with the question of what I wanted to look like in five years. Undoubtedly, I wanted to be married to the love of my life, preferably to someone who was straight and enjoyed a good roll in the sack. He would have to be a professional in some capacity, as I enjoyed the finer things in life. I thought about the people in the movies. What actor would I like my new husband’s features to be similar to? How would he dress? How would he speak? I couldn’t come up with any one answer, so I picked two or three and resigned to the fact that he needed to have some of the better qualities of each. I wanted children. So any guy that did not want children or would want to wait several years to have them was out. I already felt like my internal time clock was ticking at a rate faster than New York minutes. He would also like to travel. A home-body just wouldn’t do. And what about myself, what would I change? This was a question that would take some time, as right now I was a woman scorned. I resented all men, for that matter, but I was not even divorced and was pressuring myself to find a new man. I would have to ponder further.

                Upon leaving the park, I headed back to Rona’s place for another nap. Maybe after a soothing bath I would feel better and be able to sleep, as there was much on my mind. I drew a bath and also made me a cup of tea to enjoy while bathing.  Rona would not be home until 4:30 P.M., so I had much time to think. My father had been gracious to allow me to work in the family business, but I felt the need to “leave the nest” so to speak and become more independent. I wondered what my mother was feeling at home as I had yet to tell her what was wrong. I would have to tell her on Saturday and I was not ready for that discussion.

                A nap was just what I needed after my bath and tea. I slept for only an hour, and I had some more time to think about what else I was going to do with my life until Rona returned. My thoughts were scrambled at times and nothing seemed clear. The one thing I kept coming back to was the fact that I would soon be alone, and I needed to flex my muscle of independence. I tried to think about things in prayer, but it seemed as though I was not heard in this moment. Instead, I decided to write:

 Mom & Dad,

I know I have yet to tell you about the events that have unfolded and as to why I have come to Knoxville on a whim. These past couple of days that I have spent with Rona has been good for my soul. I needed a break from Roanoke, and while Knoxville is not that far away, I needed to get as far away from home as possible. The truth is harsh; I am getting a divorce. I have yet to tell Rona exactly why and it is going to be hard for me to tell you both. Please do me the favor of listening to me intently and without judgment.  I need you both now more than ever.

Stephanie

                There was a post office drop box in Rona’s building, so I ran down the steps and placed the letter in the slot. I was praying that it would reach them by Saturday. Not long after returning upstairs, Rona came home from work. We discussed what we would do for the evening. I suggested that we go out to a quiet place for dinner, or ordering in seemed appropriate. We ordered some Chinese and decided that if we felt the urge we would walk to a local pub for a night cap. The truth was, I was not in the mood to be seen. Rona could sense that, and she suggested that we go out. Not wanting to waste any moment of my time with her in Knoxville, I agreed. She knew of a place called Bella Luna where they had a jazz band that played on Thursday – Sunday. It would give us a chance to have some dessert and listen to some soft music.

                We both ordered Tiramisu and in the spirit of my good mood, I ordered a Rainy Day Martini. Cucumber lime vodka, cranberry juice and soda, and a slice of cucumber for garnishing. I was pleasing to the palate and after finishing the first one, I ordered a second. As I listened to the music, it seemed soothing, but the notes and the beats jumping here and there seemed to be a lot like my life. As I thought about the past six years, nothing seemed quite normal. We always had enough money to cover the bills, but that alone does not make for a smooth ride in a marriage. It simply releases the pressure from an economic standpoint. Graham was initially concerned about getting married. And we only had sex six times in six years. Those two points seemed to make sense if what I knew now was true. However, the rest of the events, such as the passing of his father had made our sleigh ride called marriage anything but smooth. The next time, there would be more stability, more routine, and more predictability.

                Rona caught me in deep thought and asked me what I thought I was going to do. I explained that Graham had already moved out of the apartment and back home with his mother. So I did not have the worry about looking for a new place to live. I did, however, want to change jobs. I explained how gracious my father had been, but it was time to strike out on my own. Mostly, I wanted to be in love as she was with Jack, but I could not get those words from my mouth at this moment. She was kind and tried to repeat the situation and plans back to me in a simple fashion. The only thing that I really needed to do besides wait on the divorce papers to come in the mail was find a new job. And that would be easy enough, right?

               

                After that exchange, we enjoyed a few more martinis and the music. It was a beautiful night in Knoxville, and as we left Bella Luna, there was an equally impressing moon high above that evening. We had accomplished our goal of getting out of the house and enjoying ourselves. Tomorrow would be a new day. With each day, I could feel myself getting closer to the reality of the situation, and my ability to deal with the emotional trauma was also getting stronger. I still had to tell my mother and father on Saturday, which I was dreading. Thank God tomorrow was Friday.

                While I had hoped that Friday would be my most relaxing day, it was anything but. Like a flash of lightning, it was here and gone. We had spent the day shopping and I once again splashed the economy with my hard earned dollars. It only seemed right to allow all charges to funnel through the joint account. I deserved something from the struggle and strife that was impending. Rona bought lunch and dinner that day and we had a cup of tea prior to going to bed. I made a game plan for what was going to happen the following week. I would begin hitting the streets on Monday after placing my informal resignation with my father on Saturday.

                When I crawled into my car early Saturday morning, it was still dark. Rona was nice enough to get up early with me and see me off. As I hugged her, she reminded me that the Vermont trip was still on the table as an offer should I decide to take her up on it. As I drove across I-40 toward Asheville, there was a thick fog. It was clearing somewhat by the time I turned left onto I-81N toward Roanoke. It was about 8:00 A.M. then and I would be arriving at home about lunchtime. Not wanting to think about how I would begin to tell my parents of the events from the previous week, I turned up the radio loud and did my best to sing along with the music that was playing.

                At 12:30 P.M., I arrived at my parent’s home in Fincastle. My mother was sitting at the kitchen table when I arrived looking out the window over the farm in a blank stare and holding the letter that I had mailed. She knew immediately that what I was going to tell her was earth-shattering, but she remained calm. She put the tea kettle on the stove and poured each of us a cup. I began by saying that the last several months with the passing of Graham’s father had been tough. But that is not what the problem was really. I explained that what Graham had told me last Friday was above reproach. When I told her that Graham had told me that he was gay, she placed her hand over her mouth in disbelief. Not wanting to tell my father myself, I encouraged Mom to explain the situation to Dad. She agreed that she would try to do it with tact. Nonetheless, it would have to be blatant and to the point.

                Dad had gone into work that morning to work on some things as I had no doubt left him with extra responsibilities that week. When he came home, I decided that I would tell him myself. I explained over lunch the issue and I also explained that I felt it was best that I move on from the family business and search for a new job. He understood and was patient in his understanding. I stated that I wanted to start looking on Monday and he agreed to start looking for a replacement to fill my shoes. They had taken the news better than I expected. Having grown up in the church, they immediately recognized the simple facts as just that, facts that could not be overcome with persuasion or a change of thinking. If Graham was gay, he was gay after all.

It was Sunday, and we had to return to work tomorrow. When we arrived back at the apartment, I poured myself a glass of white wine and retrieved a beer for Graham out of the refrigerator. We talked for a while that evening about how he was feeling. Overwhelmed was the general theme. He stated that he was going to be spending as much time as possible with him, and that might mean that his time for me may suffer somewhat with what time his father had left.

                Graham’s father had decided not to go through the recommended chemotherapy and radiation. He knew the outlook and the price associated with foregoing the treatment, but he did not want to self-inflict any pain or suffering. Graham and I understood. Many evenings for the next seven months, I would eat alone. Part of me wanted to be with Graham and his family – being new to the family- but part of me decided that his time with his father should be his. I joined him on occasion, but it was rare. It was hard to endure the pain that his father was experiencing and I had a hard time with the harsh reality of the situation.

                Graham typically came home in a sour mood. For that I forgave him, but after some time of this mood being commonplace, I advised him to do his best to leave it at the door. Our marriage suffered greatly during those months. He too was growing callous to the situation and it was boiling over into time that was supposed to be spent with me. We didn’t walk in the evenings, I ate alone and most nights I went to bed alone.

                

Graham’s father went to work when he could. Between the little bit of work that he tried to do each day, there was many meetings with his estate planning attorney. He had done well over the years and his family was going to be well taken care of. Appropriate planning prior to getting sick was in place. Graham was going to inherit the house and the business. His mother would have a large sum of money from the insurance policies, and the necessary arrangements for his final wishes were taken care of. I thought of him often as it must be troubling to know that the end of this life is so near.

                

One morning, I had packed a note along with Graham’s lunch:

Graham,

I can’t begin to wrap my arms around the pain and emotional toll that this illness that your father is experiencing is taking on you. For the life of me, I don’t know what I would do if I were in your shoes. But in the same breath, I need you to be present. We have hardly spent any quality time together since I returned from Los Angeles. Perhaps I should not even have gone, but in retrospect, I feel I needed to go so that you could come to terms with this reality on your own that weekend while I was away. Nevertheless, you have become a ghost in the midst of my presence. While I have been praying for you, I am asking you to return to some resemblance of the man I married. We can walk down this road together, but you will have to let me in.

 Stephanie

                

Even as I wrote that letter, my hand was shaking. I was saying that I needed more of him and perhaps he did not have it to give. I continued to pray daily.

       

 Meanwhile, things were going well at my father’s engineering firm. My mother had been sending Graham cards as she saw them that she hoped would be uplifting. Nothing seemed to be able to clear the fog as he continued in his morose attitude and dealings. I began to resent him for the way he was going about dealing with the situation and I knew that afterward would begin the stages of grieving.

                Graham’s father died on the Sunday morning which was Father’s day. The services were held on Tuesday and Graham had decided to close the business for the next ten days. I encouraged him to take the vacation time and additionally encouraged him to get away for a few days. He took my advice, but it didn’t seem to help. He had gone to spend some time with Paul, his best man in our wedding. Paul was now living in Minnesota, so Graham was able to get completely out of Roanoke for that time. He recounted that they spent many evenings at the bar. I was thrilled to say the least.

                I was determined not to let the grieving process linger for the rest of the year, as it seemed that he had begun down a destructive road that he may not make it back from. I urged him to consult a doctor. Reluctantly, he agreed. He was given a one-month supply of anti-depressants at which time they would reassess his mood in thirty days.

                Graham continued to flounder, but his mother was recovering well. Probate was not an issue as the insurance policies paid out a sum of $2.7 million dollars to his mother which was set up to funnel through a trust at the rate of $90,000 for thirty years. Graham’s mother was sixty-six years old at the time of her husband’s death and the money would surely carry her through the rest of her days. Graham had inherited the business and would surely be able to provide for us on his salary alone as he and his father had built a large clientele. Life would surely turn around, wouldn’t it?

                Graham was no more interested in the things that I as a woman needed to feel secure. The money was no consolation for a relationship that was spiraling at an alarming rate. He continued on the anti-depressants through the end of the year. The holiday season was just as bland, but perhaps with the turning of a new year might also allow Graham to turn a new leaf.

                On New Year’s Eve, I made reservations at Frankie Rowland’s. This is where Graham had proposed and I thought it might be a place where he would have a good memory to revert back to en route to moving on. I was wrong again. I began to wonder if our relationship would ever take a turn for the better.

                

When tax season arrived, Graham engrossed himself in his work. He was working seventeen-hour days. At least I could say that he was spending his time on something that might provide for some light at the end of the tunnel. As he churned through the day and night, he only grew tired and weary. Again, I thought that maybe after tax season was over, things might change. My mother continued to send cards and letters in an attempt to provide a backbone of faith and possibly renewal. During this time, Graham continued to attend church with us on Sunday mornings, but even that was not effective. He had grown cold to anything that might bring him back from the doldrums of his father’s passing.

               

                Having grown tired of the morose days with Graham, I spent as much time with my mother and father as possible. I was going over to dinner at their house a few nights a week and taking the time each Saturday to go and visit my mother, do laundry and take long walks on the farm. Thirty was staring me straight in the face as it was only a couple of years away.

                The next two years were seemingly unimportant to Graham with respect to our relationship. In February, I turned thirty. Graham had forgotten my birthday which I didn’t think was possible. There was no candlelight dinner, no presents, and no time spent together. My birthday came and passed. For women, thirty seems to be a big deal. Looking back, I see it not as a milestone to turn away from, but something to cherish; especially since it wasn’t forty. I was young and vibrant. My relationship was anything but.

                One afternoon, Graham came home from work. He had stated that he wanted to talk with me about something that was unpleasant. Without the hesitation that I was expecting before the big news, he simply stated that he thought he was gay. Gay? How could this be? In a moment’s notice, I began to cry and rushed out the door. I had forgotten my car keys and had to go back in the house. Graham was still standing in the foyer as if there was something more to talk about. I immediately turned around and headed for the car. I wanted to get away from him and this place in a New York minute. The car did not start when I first turned the key. Rats! On the second try, it started and I was crying in the car the entire way to my mother’s house. Sobbing so hard, I could hardly breathe, I drove at an unbelievable pace from Roanoke to Fincastle.

                

Upon reaching my mother’s front door, tears still streamed from my face and I could feel that my eyes were swelling to the point of closing. I tried to get out the words when my mother asked what was wrong, but I couldn’t. I went directly to my room and continued to sob in a furious manner with thoughts of disbelief. Our relationship was over, and I knew that. Graham would surely be packing as we spoke and would move in with his mother. At any rate, if he had not moved out by the time I would return home on Sunday, he would certainly be ushered out that day. How had this happened? I thought that having sex only six times in six years of marriage was nothing short of marriage suicide, but how and why did I deserve this?

               

  When I returned home the following day, he was gone. I surmised that he had moved back in with his mother, but I didn’t care. It was finished.

               

               

               

My 30’s

                I had wasted no time with this decision as I had my decision to leave Vanderbilt. On Friday, I had been given the most wonderful news of my short marriage. On Monday, I filed for divorce.

                I needed to clear my head, and for some reason that next thought turned toward my inward promise to visit Rona. She had graduated from medical school and was doing her residency in family medicine at a clinic in Knoxville. Perhaps she could provide me with some company and comfort.             I decided not to phone ahead, but instead to jump in the car and take a drive. If she could find time in her busy schedule to get together with me, I would give her the time.

                The drive to Knoxville was uneventful, but the whole time I thought about what I would say. How could I explain that I had spent six years with a man in a marriage only to find out that he “thought” he was gay? I thought for a moment for other reasons that I could tell Rona about what had gone wrong, but the truth would have to suffice.

                I arrived in Knoxville on Tuesday afternoon. I knew she would be working, so I simply went to my hotel and checked in. I would not bother to call her till evening. I was feeling hunger pains coming on, so I decided to visit a local restaurant for a bite to eat. A cold salad and a nice warm cup of tea might do the trick. It was a local diner. There were not many people in the diner that afternoon, so I was able to just listen to my own thoughts as I enjoyed my food. I hadn’t had a cup of Rooibos tea in a while and while it was tempting, I opted for Earl Grey. The salad was spinach with some walnuts, cherry tomato, a trio of cheeses, and some raspberry vinaigrette dressing. Simple elegance.  Not wanting to focus on just my thoughts, I watched people walk by through the window. I wondered where they were going and for what purpose. Off to a meeting? Meeting someone for lunch? Was anybody but me going to the courthouse like I had done yesterday?

                I finished my salad and sipped on my tea slowly. I was offered another cup and graciously accepted. The bill was more than reasonable and I felt the waitress needed a good tip. I left her a twenty. It was a short walk back to my hotel and a nap seemed like the best idea for the rest of the afternoon. I set my alarm for 5:30 P.M. Surely I would be able to get Rona on the phone shortly after.

                I called Rona shortly before six. In a very proper voice she answered. I explained that I was in town for a few days and asked if she would have time to see me. She was to my surprise excited to hear my voice on the other end of the line and said she would absolutely make time to see me. We set a date for drinks at 8:00 P.M. that evening.

                Keeping with the theme of simple elegance, I donned a little black dress for the occasion. She had picked an upscale bar in downtown. There was no reason not to look my best as I would soon be “on the market” again. I was not going to let my thirties pass me by without finding true love. I took a cab to the bar in downtown. It was classy; cherry wood walls with picture boxes, and a bar that resembled the shape of a surfboard. It reminded me of a place back home called 419 West.

               

  The atmosphere was calm yet classy. I was happy when I walked in as I had dressed appropriately for the occasion. Most of the men were dressed in suits, having just left work it seemed and eager for a scotch or bourbon. I ordered a dry martini and waited for Rona. She walked in the door about ten minutes after eight. She too had dressed for the occasion in a red dress that was form fitting and complimented completely her southern smile and red hair. She kissed me as if we were in France, once on each cheek and gave me a hug. Jokingly, she said that she hoped I would not go running for Roanoke after the short embrace.

               

  I had come to Knoxville as a place of respite and to tell her the news. It was not long before I got it off my chest so that she and I could enjoy the rest of the evening. She was completely surprised to which I stated that I was more surprised than she. When I told her the news, her eyes were as wide as her Georgia smile in disbelief. After all, we had both known Graham, she not as much, but never in a million years did either of us think that this would be the cause and utter demise of my divorce.  When I had finished with my sob story, I stated that I was not going to cry or mull over the situation. I had simply filed for divorce yesterday and had come to Knoxville to get far away from Roanoke on Tuesday.

                

At her request, I accepted an invitation to stay at her place for the rest of the week. It was a two-bedroom studio not far from downtown and she agreed that I needed a few days to clear my head. She would show me the best of Knoxville in the evenings. I decided I would stay until Saturday and that would allow me to get up early Saturday morning and still make it out to my Mom’s by early afternoon.

               

  I slept in on Wednesday morning which is something I hadn’t done in a while. When I awoke, Rona had already gone for the day, but left me a short note on the counter. She was going to work Wednesday and Thursday and request to have Friday off so that we could have the day to ourselves. She also noted that there was tea in the cupboard that I might be interested in. Wanting comfort that morning, I found a box of Chamomile, one of my favorites. As I watched the kettle begin to steam on the burner, I wondered if I at some point was going to scream myself about my own situation. How could it be? I was in my early thirties and I would soon be divorced for the first time.

               

  Since her apartment was close to shopping and restaurants, I decided I would walk to a place close by to have breakfast. But first, I was in need of a hot shower. I could feel the booze start to roll out of my pores that morning as I stood there in the shower for what seemed like a solid hour. With each beating water droplet, I hoped that I could feel somewhat of a cleansing about my situation, which never came. I was going to have to endure the pain of the harsh reality that I had set in motion.

                

After dressing in my trademark black and white, I walked for a bit until I found a restaurant. There was a little place called Toast on Market. It was quaint and simple. There was seating for maybe eighteen people at the most. Keeping with the morning theme, I ordered another Chamomile tea and Eggs Benedict. I was going to start the day off in a proper fashion. I watched as the people came in and out, and tried not to think about divorce. Instead, I tried to let my thoughts wonder toward what Rona and I would do with our evenings.

                

After breakfast, a short walk seemed appropriate. There was a nice park nearby where people were enjoying their morning run and walking their dogs. I found myself a seat on a park bench. That morning, I began to pray:

Lord,

I haven’t spoken to you about the situation that I am going through to this point. So here I am. I am thirty-one, and I have set in motion the proceedings toward getting a divorce. This is not something I thought I would ever do, so I will need your help. I’m not even sure if I am justified in your eyes for what I am about to do, but I don’t feel as though Graham and I were meant for each other. And if we were, he has made a game-changing move that cannot allow me to be in his life any longer. I hope and pray that you understand the awkward position that he has put me in. I pray that you will bless me in this time of struggle and strife, and carry me to new places far beyond my imagination.

Stephanie