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!