Megan Paterson is stunning and simultaneously, she is stunned. She looks just as she did in the photo my father gave me, her ebony hair falls in curls...to her waist, emerald eyes gazing at me with her perfect mouth held in a surprised , 'Oh.' I realize that I still have not spoken and then find that my mouth is dry. "Miss Paterson?" "Yes?" She blinks and closes her mouth, her rose lipstick beautifully parallel. The urge to kiss her rushes through me. She and I have never known each other. We. They call it, ‘The Lodge’, and there’s music and dancing. I think we should all head out there, it will be fun!’ How a middle-aged woman who had been up since six in the morning had so much energy, I had no idea, but that was my mother. ‘Tonight? Don’t we need to unpack?’ I asked in a voice that made it clear I was less than enthused. ‘You know, I’d think after twelve hours in the car today, you’d want to walk around for a little while,’ she answered, smiling. She did have a point. A half hour. More

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