It was now week five. Isabella and Liam still went for a walk to the beach everyday to surf and play volleyball. During the week, the beach was not as crowded and the friends that they had acquired for the summer were there each day as well. By now, I was getting quite the tan. Brady wouldn't have liked me getting this much sun, but it was hard not too; as the sun had been intense, and I lackadaisical about my sunscreen use. Nonetheless, my tanned body looked good enough that even I was turning some heads at the beach at nearly sixty years of age.

I was only a summer-and-a-half away, and I would reach that milestone. It didn't bother me; my age that is, as much as it bothered me that I was widowed. I figured in my own mind that it was time to venture out into the brave world again, but I would need to be courted; and it it would have to be someone wonderful...someone special.

We decided to do something a little unorthodox that Wednesday. We went to where we could lie down on the grass in a field where the planes from the San Diego Airport took off. It was close enough that we could feel the wind turbulence and the drag as the planes took off for their destination. While illegal, we were not the only ones who had ever done this, so we figured since we were not the first, we would certainly not be the last. "What was the harm", I thought? At any rate, if one exploded we would be "goners" in a flash; but, with that be the worst and only plausible 1 in 1,000,000 chance, we were all willing to stomach the risk.

After a few hours, we went to Coldstone Creamery. One of our favourites, we had come to love the evenings when ice cream was on the schedule. It was typically three to four nights a week, and no one ever had a complaint if it was a few nights in a row. We continued to add flavour after flavour to our own personal lists. Isabella didn't stray far from her favourites, and Liam even more so; so it seemed that I had once again become the adventurous one. I was now up to twenty-seven for the summer.