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.