After pictures, a light snack was served. Brady was the one to choose this course and of all things chose sushi. California, Philly and Salmon rolls. He had paired it with a nice Riesling from the Mosul region of Germany. At 3:15 PM, I prepared myself to walk down the aisle. The infamous “Canon in “D”, “played and the guests stood to their feet as my father walked me down the aisle. It may have been a second time, but this time was special. As mentioned previously, the weather could not have been more perfect.

The bride; me that is, wore a 1950s vintage dress that was purchased locally in Charleston. The men were outfitted in Khaki pants, a blue and white French cuff shirt, and finally a green and blue striped tie with the covering of a Navy Blue Sport Coat. Brady’s gift for the men had been there outfits, and he even purchased shoes from Aldo for all five.

As I continued down the aisle, the eyes began to focus from back to front as I was going to meet Brady in front of all to see. All was quiet as we exchanged our vows. Halfway thru, we paused for a song and John Legend’s “All of Me” filled the air with the most pleasant musical sound I have ever heard. The vows were quick it seemed, and Scott did an appropriate job of officiating. He spoke a lot about faith and love, both appropriate subjects for us and our wedding nuptials. Corinthians 13 was mentioned as was the faith chapter, Hebrews 11.

A short ceremony was conducted, a song played, and soon after; a long silence before a loud, thundering “Hooray” from the crowd and clapping could be heard for what seemed like a country mile. Rice was not thrown as it harms the birds. Instead, we gave away favors of Andes candies. Chocolate is something that everyone enjoys anyway; and it is an aphrodisiac; Blamo! However, the flowers were thrown and Dad has purchased a beautiful bouquet for me.

The people had set up a tent with hanging lanterns at the corners and underneath on hanging string. Tables were outfitted with both a royal blue and white table linen. Orchids garnished every centerpiece and there was a different variety for each to take home. The dinner was five different types of barbeque that had spent the day underground roasted in a fire pit, and then prepared in the five different ways by a master chef. Additionally, there was Prime Rib or Rib Eyes for beef lovers and Chilean Sea Bass for those who will not eat beef or pork. Not saying they come from the wrong side of the tracks, but who doesn’t eat beef and pork.

We laughed, we danced, we sag, we ate, and we imbibed. A good time was had by all. We raised nearly $350 on the “dollar dance”, and as everyone wanted to dance with the new bride. I on the other hand, only had a few dance with me. My mother, Stephanie’s mother, and a few ladies from the bridal party. Stephanie, on the other hand had a multitude of people standing in line for the opportunity to take a spin. We had to play three songs for her line to get to zero.

We would soon be heading out to our honeymoon destination. I was excited and would be surprised, as this is something that Brady had picked on his own. I would not know the destination until we arrived, and I had planned to sleep on the plane, or in the car; as I knew not whether we were flying or driving to our final destination.

We landed several hours later, and I did sleep. As we loaded our bags into a Jeep, there was island music playing. Neither Brady nor I had been here, but I knew I was in for an adventure. We were to stay eight days and seven nights, but Brady would talk me into a few more before it was all over. Bora Bora was the place. It even sounded magical. After all, I was just happy to be a new bride. I couldn’t wait to see what life would hold with Brady. And even though Graham had inherited a large sum of money from his father who died prematurely, I would never reap the benefits from any of it; and I truly believe that even the security of the money never had any emotional impact on him personally.

We checked into the Thalasso Spa, Bora Bora, at about Noon. The water was as clear as I had ever seen. You could see fish below swimming as if it was the cleanest water in the world. Sadly, they looked healthier than me in their own environment. The hotel was essentially thatched-roof huts that fanned out into the ocean in a geometrically sound shape. If this was not the picture of Japanese or Chinese health; whichever you want to apply, I do not know what was. All of our Chakras were right, and nothing was wrong.

Brady had scheduled a couple’s massage for 3:00 PM the first day. On beds overlooking the ocean at the top of a mountaintop at Nui Resort and Spa, I watched the gentle ocean waves crash against the 800 meters of white shoreline while a French Polynesian man relieved Brady and I from all of our stress; not that there was much to be had in a place like this. Similar to the first time I married, I was wondering about our guests, but I knew that my father and mother would ensure that a good time was had by all. For some reason, I had brought my iPod and I was listening to John Legends CD as this man with wonderful hands worked on me for about an hour. He started with a very simple Swedish massage technique and moved quickly into deep tissue. At the end, he would again finish in a gentle style, with essential oils and lotion to make my skin smooth and fresh. I began to wonder what our first meal in French Polynesia might be, and I was hungry after the long journey.

We had reservations at Villa Mahana the first night. It continued on the theme of majestic. As we ate, a classical and contemporary type of music with a heavenly vibe filled the air. This was no “run of the mill” eaterie. The white tablecloths adorned the table and the chairs we were ushered into were French-styled wingbacks which seemed to have the patina of a bygone era. The glasses for water has a blue rim that fired for about an inch from the top. One could notice that they were made by cutting the top off of a wine bottle and were shaped and colored by a master craftsman. The wine glasses were appropriately Reidel, and there were paintings that covered the walls. Most were a contemporary style that paid homage to the Roman-style, as most of the figurines were a little distorted from the wide paintbrush and showed nudity.

The chef had studied in France and was classically trained in Paris. If the wine list was any indication, I felt sure that a sommelier was retained. Brady and I both opted for the same meal and ordered a bottle of Guigal for sipping. Rare Tuna steak garnished with a few blackberries with a side of Bibb lettuce finely dressed with a pineapple citrus marinade instead of a dressing. This was no ordinary Tuna. The chef had sent out a complimentary appetizer and later visited our table to recommend the Tuna. It was freshly caught just two hours before preparation by a local fisherman. He was paid daily for the daily catch. Sometimes I wish I had a job so simple and so easy. It would be a wonderful thing to know that I was delivering the famous French Polynesian fish each day at the market price.

Brady knew that I had a concept for a restaurant at some point that I would open in my life. Thirty-two place settings each evening and one appetizer, entre and dessert. When the reservations are booked, the show is over. It would give time for the chefs to plan a daily menu that would always be local and fresh. As a woman growing up watch my Father work his guts out, I decided that I would take a softer approach to work, but still retain the work ethic that he had taught me. As we dined, I talked about the opportunity to Graham as I had about had my fill of “Crook & Chase”. We would be treated like royalty no doubt, and we ate like the King and Queen of England throughout the week. Brady thought the opportunity interesting, as there was not such a concept in Roanoke. Neither of us had any strong ties to home, except for my parents that I saw religiously on Saturday and Sunday, so we also talked about a move to Asheville. I could start the restaurant, and Brady could either sell his book of business, or retain it as an annuity and visit Virginia once a week to service his client base there.

Within two weeks of returning from vacation, we decided to pick up stakes and move. I was thirty-nine when we became Ashevillians, and I was happy to begin a new life in a new home with Graham. We took a few short visits to see where we might like to live and landed in the same community as Brady’s friend, entrepreneur Mike Lintz. It was called Biltmore Lake. Our new address would be 377 Quill Gordon Court, Biltmore Lake, NC 28715.

Mom,

We have started a beautiful new life in Asheville. Brady was offered quite a price to sell his practice so we decided to do so and put the money toward our home. It is not fully paid for, but we have plenty of equity as a security blanket. Brady has joined Mutual of Omaha, and he says it is the strongest compensation plan he has ever seen in the financial services business.

It is Saturday, and today I will hang a clothesline in the back yard whether the neighbors like it or not. It is getting chilly here in the evenings, and the days shorter and shorter, but I am happy to report that my laundry will still be done as we have always done it on Saturdays; as it is a tradition I will never break.

In addition to Brady’s new employment, we are opening a restaurant. Brady also has an idea for a personal delivery service, but that remains to be seen how the details will come together. In “Beer City”, I feel sure the concept will catch on quickly.

Your daughter, with Love,

Stephanie

Brady has always had a strong, positive opinion on the wares from Jos. A. Bank. Their deals are truly unbeatable. Who can afford to run a, “Buy 1, Get 3 Free” suit sale and stay in business? Somehow, they are able to, as witnessed by the small fact that they recently merged in a partnership of equals with Men’s Wearhouse. A good move for both, I would think. Brady is frugal, and decided on only three shirts that day. Besides his muscle shirts and polo shirts, I have never seen Brady wear a shirt that buttons up the front with short sleeves. It is simply not his style…and I do have to say confidently, his style is impeccable when it comes to taste in clothing.

Brady also wanted to frolic in M. Dumas & Company; just to look. He someday dreams of owning a single Canali suit, but who pays $3000 for suit and walks away without buyer’s remorse. I certainly couldn't do it. Now a bag from Coach may be different, but it would have to be a gift and not a purchase.  There was plenty to like in M. Dumas, except the price. They had all the styles and brands that you find in Macy’s on 5^th.

We browsed a few more stores and I bought a few more items to include a sundress that was forty percent off at Ann Taylor Loft. Brady was also nice enough to allow me the option of upgrading my undergarments as well at his and my new favorite, Victoria Secret. He had always purchased these things for his girlfriends at that particular store.

Brady introduced me to a new type of dinner at a local seafood restaurant. Having had some not-so-good and certainly not-so-sophisticated relationships in the past, all of this was new to me. Brady treated me like a Queen, and was able to share with me the finer things in life. He ordered some Sweet Teas and Low-Country Boil for dinner. The price was attractive at $29.99, and boy was that some fine eating. Dungeness and Alaskan Crab Legs, Shrimp, Corn on the Cob, Muscles, Lobster with butter, mushroom, potatoes, and everything seafood except the kitchen sink. You simply lay out a brown paper cloth, dump the pot, and go to town. I was simply amazed at how all the flavors came together by boiling the ingredients in one singular pot.

 After dinner, a rickshaw ushered us back to the hotel and we again visited the lobby bar for a nitecap. To our surprise, there was a sign or poster door hanger on our hotel door handle in the shape of a wine bottle which offered us free wine bottle service for the evening. Brady was quick to take advantage of this kind offer and we enjoyed a Tempranillo from the Rioja region of Spain. The wine showed tastes of Mulberry, Black Cherry and had a Smoky nose and finish to include white pepper. To date, it is my favorite red.

Sunday morning was a sad day. We had so much enjoyed our weekend that I did not want to make the trip back to Roanoke and leave Brady. After enjoying a cupcake at “Cupcake down South”, it was time to hit the road; as we would have to actually go back to work on Monday. Brady decided we would take the scenic route, and we traversed the Blue Ridge Parkway instead of the more direct interstate route. While it added time to the drive, we were certainly happy with the choice.

My thirties was perhaps the best decade of my life. And at this juncture, I think it appropriate to ship to the best part. Are you ready? Ready or not, here it comes.

Unbeknownst to me, Brady mad a trip to my mother and father’s house in Fincastle just a few short weeks after our trip to Charleston, South Carolina. Like a true Southern gentleman, he had gone to ask my father and mother for my hand in marriage. Mom was ecstatic and wanted to call me and confidently tell me that a surprise was waiting in the wings, but Dad has made her promise to hold her tongue.

It was July and it had been a brutal summer. Temperatures were nearly topping 100 degrees on a daily basis. Dad was getting tiresome from keeping up the farm and bailing hay to take to horse sales in nearby Lexington, Virginia; horse country. Even in the dead of nite, temperatures never made it below 76 degrees that hot July summer. Brady devised a master plan to propose. There was a summer blue jean ball which supported a local food bank charity. I had never gone, and it was in Asheville, North Carolina…somewhere I had only visited, and more correctly drove thru. I had seen the Biltmore House in photos and knew that it was the hallmark gem of Asheville.

Thankfully, it was a cooler August evening, and we arrived at the somewhat famous Highland Brewing Company around 6:00 PM. Cocktails would be sold until 7:00 PM, and the music would start around 7:30 PM. They had vittles from about twenty local restaurants. Everything was incredibly tasty, as Asheville is known to be a thriving food-to-table restaurant community. All of the proceeds would support Manna Food Bank’s operations in a continuing effort for awareness of the hunger issue in Asheville and also to support their mission to feed Asheville on a daily basis.

A local jazz band played until 11:00 PM that evening. Around 9:30 PM; (I still remember the exact time), Brady went to get me some ice cream from the bar that was there from a local creamery. To my surprise, after a few bites, I bit into something round and incredibly solid. I nearly broke a tooth; which would not have been pretty for the impending wedding photos. When I reached into my mouth and pulled out the object that had protruded and been mixed in my blackberry crème sorbet, it was a diamond. And I mean a DIAMOND! Brady would never tell where he had purchased it that evening, but I later learned that it was certified thru Blue Nile, upon obtaining insurance for it. There was no way I was going to not insure a $4000 diamond; that was already valued at $7500.

At Blue Nile; an online diamond exchange, you van design the perfect diamond for your mate. The color was “C”, clarity “S-1”, cut, a perfect round with eighty-four facets, carat, “2.25”. Brady had thought enough of me to design the diamond that I still wear to this day. It seems to have gotten more radiant with age, like a fine wine that Brady and I loved so much; as we shared many a bottle over our many years.

 The wedding would be held in Charleston. I had decided on having a small gathering and a large reception. Intimate weddings are by far my favorite and my special day would be no different. Brady had become my perfect match. There was no other man on Earth that I wanted to be with. From the twinkle in his eyes when he looked at me, to the way he opened my car door, and by far the way he had opened my eyes to the finer things in life; he would soon be mine, and I his…forever.

I had picked Magnolia Plantation for the site for our nuptials. We had been to visit and had a consultation. We picked out a place under the Magnolia and Spanish Moss trees to exchange our vows. The site had room for about fifty guests and we were expecting an almost undo-able number of 300 plus for the reception. Thankfully, my father had done well this year in the hay season and would be able to pay for the many expenses that come associated with his daughter’s special day.

As I envisioned, all eyes would be on me at precisely 3:30 PM. I have heard it said that the couple should be married on the “Uptick”; highly appropriate as it is a sign of moving forward in time together, for as many years as God will allow. In addition to his boss, Brady’s manager, Scott Burgess, was a Baptist pastor. He had only officiated a half-a-dozen weddings or so during his tenure as a pastor. He was a 6’9” strong, black man with a family consisting of his wife, two daughters and a son. He had played college basketball in Upstate New York and hailed from Buffalo. Ironically, in this time, Buffalo had become a renewed and even burgeoning town with some life attached to it. However, he had moved from there years earlier and had spent some time in Tennessee before landing his current role in Asheville, North Carolina.

When we arrived at the plantation for pictures, guests were already there and enjoying either a glass of champagne or Sangria in the gardens under the trees for shade. Since we were married in the early fall, the weather had died down a bit with respect to the heat and there was a light breeze that day. The humidity was low, and the combination of the three made for a nice fall afternoon. At exactly 2:30 P.M., I arrived in a horse drawn carriage, and we had his father’s car to drive away in. It was a 1969 Chevrolet Impala SS with 427 horses under the hood. A real man’s car. The seats were white leather and the exterior color was a baby blue. Brady’s father had purchased the car in the fall of 1971, after returning home from a two-year tour in Vietnam. Brady had not been thought of yet, but knew as a child that he wanted to have the car; either by inheritance, purchase or gift.

The guests were brimming with excitement as they saw me arrive. A few snaps; or rather a lot of them, and the wedding ceremony would proceed. I had only four on my side and Brady had five as he had decided on two best men.  Thomas beck and John Hughes, Jr. would be his best men. John was a “on the rise” university professor in the Midwest in bio statistics and Tom was in the finance business like Brady. While Tom was an Ashevillian, they had met thru common friends at a conference. At the time, Brady and Tom were considering a career with MetLife, but each chose a different and better direction. John, however, had chosen the most appropriate university for his work based on the strength, breadth and depth of the university’s program.

After dinner, we decided to open the Pinot Grigio and sit and continue our conversation on the front porch. There was a softness in Brady’s eyes that evening that I had never seen. It was love for sure. It made me feel like I was the only person on Earth, perfect for him; and perhaps a perfect union in the making. “Would he propose in Anguilla?” I longed to hear him say the words and I had decided at that instant that I would offer myself to him forever with a resounding, “YES!”

Brady was unaware, but I had already made plans for the wedding to be held in the “City of Love”, or Charleston, South Carolina. I imagined myself walking thru a small party of guests in lawn chairs all looking at me with a gaze of wonderment. Taking each step with care toward Brady, I would become his wife for eternity beneath the Magnolia trees and Weeping Willows. The weather would be perfect and even a light rain might start at the very moment that we leaned in to kiss each other as husband and wife for the first time. Our guests would not need umbrellas as the rain would simply be small kisses from the heavens. Flowers would be throne and the after party would commence. I imagined small plates consisting of South Carolina barbeque and a compilation of all styles. Memphis Dry-Rub, Carolina Gold, South Carolina Vinegar style and your typical barbeque style.

                

We would definitely have asparagus; my favorite, as a side and perhaps some grains as well. Another option would be Low-Country boil that would be spread out across picnic tables with a paper-bag style tablecloth so that those enjoying crab would have a place for the mustard that could either be eaten as a garnish or scraped, as most people do. Orchids would be the flower of choice, and each couple or family would have one to take home in remembrance of the occasion. My mind raced with plans of grandeur…but of course Brady would have to ask for my hand in marriage. That would be step one.

                

As the night wound down, my thoughts were of a wedding; and I could see in Brady’s eyes that he was desiring to fulfill the next step toward making our relationship exclusive and official. As a woman who can multitask, I had my mind on both. Brady did inquire that evening, and I said “yes” to a fully committed relationship.

                

We designed a schedule. We would spend weekends together trading places; one weekend at his home and the next at mine. We had planned small getaways each weekend leading up to our summer vacation. It would not be long until we would reach the seashore, but it seemed like an eternity, waiting. Each day at work got longer and longer, but I was counting down the days to Anguilla.

                

We would fly from Roanoke regional airport to Miami, Florida, and then on to the Carribean. As the time neared, the days did actually seem to get shorter and I prayed each night for a safe trip and a formal proposal. Brady WAS the man that I wanted to spend the rest of my days with.

With this new found commitment between Brady and I, I was prepared to take a toothbrush and a few smaller items in the event of a “sleep-over” offer. The next day, I went into the office and directly marched into my boss’s office and demanded the day off. He kindly agreed and I decided to have a “Day of Dreaming.” Off to Barnes & Noble I went. I went straight away to the magazine rack, grabbing everything from Southern Living to Charleston Wedding Magazine…and everything in between I might add. To name a few more there was Wine Spectator, Dwell, Food & Wine, Travel + Leisure, etc.; and I had picked up a few that I thought Brady would also enjoy; Architectural Digest and Whiskey Advocate.

                

The next stop was Starbucks as I began to pour across the pages of Charleston Wedding magazine. If you thought the dreams were flying last evening, the thoughts in my head were scattered but free flowing today. I decided to dig deep into this particular magazine, and then at lunch time call Rona and perhaps go to visit my mother. It had been awhile since we saw each other anyway, as I had been skiing in the Northeast. Around 10:00 A.M., I phoned my mother and she answered. “This is Wednesday”, she said; and that was the first thing that came out of her mouth as she answered the phone. I took a few minutes to honestly apologize and we agreed on having lunch at Panera Bread.

                

While the trip to Killington was a highlight of our conversation, nothing was more exciting than the news that Brady and I were an item; significant others! Mother was ecstatic, as she knew what I had endured with Graham in my twenties. Perhaps this time it would be different. Boy meets girl, boy gets the girl, they live happily ever after, “The End.” Mother decided that after a cup of soup and a cold, crisp salad that we should go shopping. And who was I to turn down such a novel idea? I had tomato bisque and a ceasar salad and Mom opted for the black bean soup and a garden salad. We each paged thru the magazines with care. It seemed as if I had earmarked nearly every page in Charleston Wedding magazine. While unbeknownst to Brady, Mother was ecstatic that I had picked the “City of Love” as a wedding destination. Charleston is not terribly far from Roanoke, so it would be easy for family and close friends to make the journey.

Mom knew exactly where to take me to outfit me with some new clothes. We first ventured into White House|Black Market. As I probably mentioned previously, I have always been a fan of the classic and timeless look. This simply means that Black and White are great colors for any occasion, and colors that never go out of style. Some would also add Navy and Red, and I would have to agree; but Black and White can always fit the bill for any occasion, happy or sad. Every woman needs a ”Little Black Dress”, no?

As usual, Mother and I spent too much money shopping. There was WH|BM, Ann Taylor Loft, Banana Republic, New York & Company, Eddie Bauer, Dillard’s and the run of the mill department stores.

                

I was now prepared to meet Brady head on as I was armed with what seemed like a new wardrobe. So as to not let my dream for the weekend getaway, I had made a suggestion that our first weekend away be in none other than Charleston, SC. We arrived about 2:00 P.M. in the afternoon on a Friday. Neither of us worked much that week. Brady had taken off just Friday afternoon, but I had taken off Wednesday, Thursday and Friday. We found public parking and a rickshaw.

                The first order of business was to make a reservation for dinner and then find a suitable hotel or Bed & Breakfast, my favorite. I have always enjoyed camping; I just prefer it at places like the Hilton, the Plaza or something along the lines. So much for starting a fire in the woods…not my cup of tea. On the corner of King Street, we happened to find the Francis Marion Hotel. The bell hop said they were fully booked, but Brady decided to enter and inquire. To our surprise, they had one room available and Brady said that we would take it. It was a 4-star hotel, so I knew in an instant that the accommodations would be suitable. The restaurant was just as highly regarded so we made a reservation for the evening.

                

When he returned, Brady had mentioned the interesting discussion had between he and the reservation agent. It seemed as if he had been quite a long time securing a room and I was starting to get nervous. Surely with so much time they had had at least one available. With that million-dollar smile on his face, Brady explained. The normal cost for a room at the Francis Marion on a Friday night would be $399. However, because there was a particular dysfunction with the toilet…may overflow, but definitely has a splash…we were able to get the room at $129 per night for two nights; a considerable savings. We come to find out that closing the lid before flushing kept the Lochness monster and the water from jumping out of the toilet upon flushing.

                

Dinner was scheduled for 7:00 P.M. and we arrived about thirty minutes early to enjoy a cocktail. I was in the mood for fish and to my surprise, Brady was as well. We ordered a bottle of Riesling from Germany and Brady ordered a whiskey as well. He had never enjoyed a Sidecar even though he had seen it ordered by George Clooney in movies several times. It was a likeable drink, quenching, and not heavily laden with a whiskey taste. An appetizer was ordered and dinner would follow shortly.

                

I ordered the Pecan-Crusted Salmon over a bed of rice with asparagus spears and Brady had an Open-Faced Chilean Sea Bass. The head, eyes and all were prominent from this fish from South America. We had eaten Chilean Sea Bass at Metro on several occasions in Roanoke, but this was some good eatin’. Every bite seem to burst with flavor, and we added a bottle of buttery Chardonnay from the Napa Valley to go with dinner. Bite after bite, we rejoiced with pleasure an applauded the chef and especially the bartender. She was a young girl, raised in the South, and had chosen Charleston against her Father’s wishes as a place to attend school. Apparently, he would have rather had her attend somewhere closer to home.

                

Dinner ended with dessert. Tiramisu…my favorite. Brady opted for a Starbucks coffee alongside his dessert and it would soon be time to call it a nite, hit the scrubber, and then the sack. We would make love for the first time that evening, and I would be brimming with ecstasy for what seemed like hours on end.

                

Morning came too quickly, but the order of the day was shopping on King Street. What a pity! Brady had even picked some places that he would like to go. His go-to store for his attire was Jos. A. Bank. In addition to that store, there was Dumas & Sons, which had been a Charleston landmark for fine clothing for nearly seventy-five years, Here you can find $3,000 Canali suits. One of the finest accoutrements made in Italy, you will pay thru the nose; as they say, but as the saying also goes, you get what you pay for. Allen Edmonds shoes, which every President since the 1950's is outfitted with, are also prevalent.

                

To my surprise, we also found Polo shirts made by a local entrepreneur that we knew personally at a clothing store in Charlotte. Mike Lintz was a close friend and had started a clothing line with a partner in the early 200s, True Flies Clothing, LLC. He had been trying to get into Dumas & Sons for some time, as his wares would have an attractive price point alongside the other lines of clothing, but they had yet to come to a formal agreement. I advised him to keep trying.

                

We found parking on King Street, but it was not without a hitch. While Brady is an excellent driver, parallel parking is usually not the forte of anyone with a driver’s license. He managed to scrape the plastic bumper of a Nissan Armada at about 9:00 A.M. in the morning. I applauded him for keeping his cool, as now the Kia Optima that he drove had an additional blemish. A quick buff would fix this error, but it would not be done for quite some time. Character for now, I surmise!

                

The goal for Saturday was shopping. King Street is a small 5^th Avenue-type shopping district in Charleston. Almost any high end store you want to find is there. Additionally, there are the local business owners that have been the cornerstone and hallmark stores on the district for years. Brady was a little septic from the night before…too much imbibing on his part…but he was a trooper nonetheless. Store after store we shopped until we would drop. One of my favorites was Aldo. I purchased a crème and black purse which had a fold-over clasp with a bow. Brady was actually the one that spotted it and decided that I needed to own it for myself. He also purchased some shoes and a watch and I a blue and white striped clutch and some small jewelry items. The sale was amazing and even though Brady’s shoes were full price at $84.99, we still managed to get out of there for just over $200.

                

By lunch time we had already spent nearly a grand, so we decided to slow down and take in some lunch. We decided on a cocktail and appetizers and landed at a little Irish Pub for some relaxation. Brady ordered and Oban and Ginger; hair of the dog I suppose, and I had a refreshing, fruity Sex on the Peach. A couple of appetizers were enjoyed and the service was unfortunately “muy malo”, or very bad! Not to allow it to ruin our day, we once again hit the streets with an economic passion.

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