It
had been about a year, and I was sitting in the parking lot of the WaWa just
outside the Richmond airport. I wasn’t alone; a beloved friend was with
me while we waited for Steve and Lori to finish the coffee run, after which we
would head to their place to continue the visit and allow peristalsis to deal
with the effects of Carrini’s Italian Restaurant.
Without
there being any plan for it to happen this way, it turned out to be the moment
I had asked of this treasured young lady several months ago . . .
