“Oh, sure ... You both gang up on me.”“He’s got to be smart, reliable, reasonably good looking, funny...”“Like the guy I married, right, T...rri?” Tina injected.“Mmm-hmm...” affirmed Terri. She then smiled at me sweetly. “Like that.”So she found that, at least in her estimation. I know the guy. If my daughter was ten years older, I’d be popping celebratory champagne. She’s not ten years older. It’s killing me.Trouble is, I like the guy. He’s a bright young engineer in his own right, interned with. I was walking casually among many well dressedwomen, most of which looked dressed to the nines and were out on thetown, and I felt like one of them! Despite some side glances by some ofthese girls (a girls got her intuition), I felt like I belonged. I wasnot to be discouraged. I was a woman empowered!I was doing a little window shopping, enjoying the sound of my heelsclicking on the ground, checking my reflection in the shop windows, whenI found this cute little cafe or coffee shop. It had. More

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