" Are you afraid?" No. Yes. Actually, I'm terrified. I want this to work. I'm afraid it won't. I'm praying for this dream to continue. I'm scared that...I will wake up. I'm comfortable in your presence. Your presence is screwing up my world. Is that mixed up enough to not make any sense? Si, how is this going to work out?" I don't know, Sharon. This has been a magical weekend starting Friday at the airport. I want the magic to keep going but we both know the humdrum of everyday existence is going. ‘There’s a track over there,’ suggested Abby. George reversed until he drew abreast to the track. ‘This must be it.’ He swung Abby’s BMW onto the gravel path. The trees overhead formed a tunnel into which few stray beams of light broke through. After a hundred yards, the path emerged onto an opening. A gravel drive ran in a loop to the front door of a farmhouse. The farmhouse appeared to be well over one hundred years old. It was built of stone, and a covered porch ran the length of the. More

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