ANNOUNCEMENT

Hello Again.....I have come to a decision that was not easy to make. I am temporarily stopping the novel blog and resuming the questions blog. I won't necessarily be posting every week, but I will post when the spirit moves me, when I feel that I have something to say. 

I think that life has to be about challenging yourself and growing through that challenge, but sometimes it is also about honestly acknowledging our strengths and weaknesses. I was not writing the novel that I hoped to write. I was not entirely proud of what I was putting out there and that made me reluctant to continue the story. Perhaps, someday, Sarah and Miriam will call me back. Perhaps, their story will shape itself in my head as I lead my life, and I will be motivated to resume their tale. Or not. Maybe their story is not the story I need to write.

In the meantime, I will continue to post my thoughts and queries, my dreams and observations, to the question blog. I hope that I have not disappointed anyone; though, I can't help feeling a bit disappointed in myself. When I was young, I started out writing fiction and loving the appeal of creating worlds from words on paper. Then, life taught me to value truth and honesty because without them, nothing else is real. Today, I'm realizing that memoir feels like the genre that best suits me. When I write about the books I'm reading, the dreams I have, the food I create or the people I know...I am embracing and chronicling a life lived. For now...that feels like what I am supposed to be doing.

Please stay tuned for a new post from this blog soon. As you may have noticed, I tweaked the title a bit.

Thanks to all of my faithful bleaders for taking this circuitous journey with me.

-Rachel

Chapter Eighteen

The unthinkable happened last night and I m still trying to come to terms with what it means.
At about three in the morning my cell phone rang and jarred me out of a deep sleep. In the order in which they flooded my brain, here are the disastrous options that I imagined:
              1. Something wrong with mom
              2. Something wrong with Abby or Ian or their kids
              3. Rara
             
Happily, this particular disaster did not affect any of the above. Lightening struck the bakery. By the time the fire crew arrived on the scene, so much damage had been done that the firefighters focused mainly on keeping the fire from spreading to any of the surrounding structures.

One of the benefits of living in a small suburb of a large city is that everyone knows you. Bill Adams, the local Fire Captain, called me as soon as he got the call. As I was driving over to the shop to meet them, I was trying to stay optimistic. After all, it was raining buckets, so how could a fire rage amidst all of that water? Sadly, I learned that it can. Sarah's Sweet Cakes was fully ablaze when I pulled up onto the side street. The air smelled like burnt sugar...but maybe I'm imagining that. I didn't even realize that I was crying until Bill handed me a tissue. Within the next hour, the proprietors of the neighboring businesses arrived to survey the damage. I called Abby and she came to wait with me. After the last flame had been extinguished, the firefighters went in to assess the damage. I tried to join them but they said that the foundation had not yet been secured.

Abby held my hand as we waited for the first report. When Bill approached us, the expression on his face said everything. "I'm really going to miss those red velvet cupcakes with my afternoon tea, Sarah. But you'll rebuild. You're young. This is just gonna be a bump in the road."

Abby squeezed my hand tightly. "No one was injured. Your insurance is up-to-date. We'll help you figure this out. I promise."

Just then, a very familiar looking yellow bug pulled into the parking spot next to Abby's car. Rara jumped out of the driver's side door just as Miriam bolted out of the passenger side. The two elderly women raced towards Sarah, and Miriam got there first. Both women were dressed oddly as if they had layered clothes over their nightgowns rather than starting from scratch and getting dressed. Sarah was enormously grateful to see them.

"We came as soon as Abby called and told us," Miriam said. "Rara offered to drive since my night vision is getting worse..We just threw jackets on over our night clothes....We look atrocious...Hopefully, we won't run into anyone we know. Oh never mind about all that, what the hell happened?"

"Mom," Abby chimed in. "Breathe. This was an Act of God...totally unpredictable and unpreventable."


"Must we really bring God into it?" Rara asked. "Things happen. Do we have to  hang blame on some faceless deity in order to make sense of it?"

The three other women just stared at her blankly. "If you think this is the time to engage in one of your spiritual debates about the cosmos, you are even wackier than I think you are!" As Miriam spoke her hands were shaking slightly at her side.

"Oh shit," said Rara. "You're right. Its the middle of the night and I'm frankly spooked by all of this. Besides, the older I get, the weirder I am without my coffee!"

She walked over to Sarah and put her arms around her. "C'mon baby girl. We will fix this. We are strong, capable women and we can rise above this whole lightening fire mess thing. In fact, knowing us, we will have you back up and running way before anyone has time to miss their little baby bundt cakes."

Sarah looked at Rara and then at Abby and finally at Miriam, and something became startlingly clear to her. "I love you all. So much. You have been there for my ups and my downs and my in betweens. But, I'm going to take this as a sign. Maybe from God. Maybe from the cosmos. Maybe from something else...or nothing at all. Sitting here, watching this lovely business I've created burn to the ground, I've made a decision. I'm not re-building...I'm reinventing."

Chapter Seventeen

I've been thinking a lot lately about men. I used to think that my relationship with the other sex could best be summed up by the phrase: "Can't live with them; can't live without them!"  Don't get me wrong; my husband was a good man. He was kind and generous and honest and smart. He loved me more than anyone else had ever loved me. I think I loved him BECAUSE he loved me so much, if that makes any sense. And I am a practical gal and he was the practical choice for a partner. I needed someone who wouldn't balk at my long hours and the grueling demands of a medical career. I needed to be with someone who would share the parenting responsibilities with me in the years before men were held accountable for parenting. We were good together. We raised two lovely daughters. We cared for one another.

But...I know...I know...why does there always have to be a BUT? But, every now and then, I missed the sizzle and spark. I'm  not a Romantic. I don't believe that each of us is designed with one perfect match in mind, one soul-mate. I had a list of things I needed in a partner and Phil had most of those traits. It made sense.

When I came up with my plan to help Sarah, I created another list, a list of the traits that Sarah needed in a mate. I thought I would make a man for her who was caring and smart. A guy who loved to eat and to talk and to cuddle (because Sarah is a much more affectionate gal than I am). But...(YES, here comes another BUT), after spending the last three weeks with Henry, I am suddenly questioning everything I ever thought about the male gender.

Henry does not have all the qualities on my list...other than the obvious appendage. He is bald and short and has a belly that makes me worry about his cholesterol levels. He is not polished like Phil; he is rough around the edges. He laughs too loudly and chews with his mouth open half the time. He cannot play too much golf or
watch too much football. I think anything that involves a ball is a waste of time.

While he frequents his son's gourmet restaurant, he would be much happier eating a slice of Chicago-style deep dish pizza, the greasier the better. He wouldn't know the difference between a Malbec and a Merlot.
Museums bore him and the last novel he actually read cover to cover was Catch 22. He starts every day with a bagel and shmear and two cups of black coffee and the ipad version of the Wall Street Journal.

When I'm with him, I feel like I'm sixteen and I laugh until I'm afraid I'll need to start wearing Depends.
When he touches me, even if his hand accidentally brushes against my shoulder as he's opening the car door for me, I tingle. When I wake up in the morning, I check my phone to see if he's texted me. Every morning since the Josh Groban concert, I've woken up to a cute little text that says something like: "Wake Up Sleeping Beauty," or "Rise and Shine My Valentine." So corny and trite...but I love every bit of it.

Henry would fail any test I would devise about the perfect mate, and yet I am suddenly perfectly happy! I can't believe I'm saying this, but I think its time to re-think everything I thought I knew.

Chapter Sixteen

One of the confusing things about life is that everything is relative. My fatal flaw is that I am too interested in what other people think. Bottom line? I want the world to think well of me. OK...maybe I don't really care about the whole world...but I want the people who care about me to view me in a positive light.

On the surface, that doesn't sound terribly dangerous or dysfunctional. However, in practice, it makes living life like one of those corn mazes in Iowa somewhere. I can never find my own way out because each time I talk to someone, they give me a different answer and I head off obediently in that direction.

To prove my point, I've compiled a collection of responses to some questions I've posed recently to the important people in my life. I think these will speak for themselves.


Sarah: I stumbled upon mom making out at the Josh Groban concert yesterday and I'm torn between being really happy for her and feeling like killing myself because my 76 year old mother gets more action than I've seen in months.

Abby: I thought I was the narcis-sister. Get over yourself and just laugh about the sheer awkwardness of it all!

RaRa: Ok..that was definitely weird and totally out-of-character for Miriam but its time she got back in the saddle. Hell..a little saddle action might make her a lot more fun to be around! As far as you're concerned, my lovie, send her good thoughts and they will all bounce back on you. Karma, baby, karma!

Dr. L.: Even as adults, we have trouble coming to terms with our parents' sexuality. But we are all sexual creatures, aren't we, Sarah?
(Dr. L. likes to end every statement with a question. It annoys the heck out of me!)

Brad: Fucking hilarious! Seriously, if I saw my mom making out on the lawn I'd probably take a photo and frame it. I love her, but she is seriously way too uptight to make out in public. Miriam has it going on! Oh...and about that other part...easily rectified, darling. I'm free Thursday night!

Miriam: Certainly you have something better to do than obsess about a silly moment at some concert.
Really, Sarah! My life has nothing whatsoever to do with your life. That isn't exactly what I meant to say. You are a lovely, charming, beautiful woman, Sarah. But you worry far too much about the rest of the world..including me. Sail YOUR ship, Sarah!
(What the hell does that mean? Why does she feel the need to talk in metaphors when things get personal!!!!!)

Sarah: Where are all the GOOD men?

Abby: I think I married the last great man! Sorry!

RaRa: All around you, sweet girl. You just need to open those beautiful eyes of yours a little wider.

Dr. L.: The right man will show up when you are content with yourself, Sarah. What will it take for you to believe that you are a good woman?
(I hate answers wrapped in questions!)

Brad: Are you really asking me about other men?  That's like kicking a guy in his crown jewels, Sarah!

Miriam:  Funny you should ask. I've been tossing around a few solutions to that problem but I am not prepared to share them at this moment.
(Cryptic as always, mother!)

Sarah: I want a child more than anything, so why am I procrastinating about filling out the adoption paperwork for Bao?

Abby: Having Sam & Alex was the best thing I ever did in my whole life (other than marrying Ian). Get off your ass and make it happen!

RaRa: Can I go back to the first question? I think you need to define "good." After all, my good isn't going to be good for you. Heterosexual must be at the top of your list after that confused husband of yours..but what else matters? Think about it, Sarah. And when you have a list written with twenty or so items on it, cross out everything other than the first two. Then you won't be looking for a good man, you'll be looking for the man who is good enough to take the journey with you.

(Then Rona took another bite of her pear cupcake with cinnamon icing and continued).

And about the baby thing...being a mom is--hands down--the hardest job that the universe requires of us. It tests you in ways you cannot begin to imagine. It makes you constantly aware of the fact that life is a fragile miracle. Be brave and do it! Do it! Do it! Do it!

Dr. L: Procrastination is the mind's way of putting on the brakes. What part of this decision are you questioning?

Brad: Sounds a little nuts to me but I will support you any way that I can. "Uncle Brad" has a nice ring to it, doesn't it?

Miriam: This is a HUGE step, Sarah...especially without a partner. Are you really financially stable enough to provide for a child? Have you considered the cost of educating a child properly? Of course, I will embrace any child that you bring into this family. I just need you to be certain that you have addressed all the possible contingencies. What if the child needs special help? What if she doesn't fully bond with you? What if  she grows up and wants to return to China?

Sarah: If I tell you what I really dream of doing, will you call me crazy?

Abby: Of course. You are the crazy sister; I am the solid sister. Do you really think that's ever going to change! Be crazy, Sarah. I wish I could!

RaRa: Life is crazy! My favorite people are crazy! Embrace the CRAZY!!!

Dr. L. : Why would it matter what the rest of us think, Sarah? Do you want the world to define you or do you want to begin to define yourself?

Brad:  What is it? You can tell me? I won't judge you. Did I ever tell you what I fantasize about?

Miriam:  Life is about finding solutions. Are you finding solutions, Sarah, or are you making more problems for yourself?

(I rest my case!)

Chapter Fifteen

Miriam leaned back on her elbows and looked around. It was a beautiful night and while Josh Groban was no Frank Sinatra, it was still enjoyable music to listen to. Henry had insisted on bringing dinner, even though she had offered, and he brought a beautiful picnic basket filled with treats form Jeff's restaurant. Everything about the night had been, well, perfect. It was odd when things exceeded her expectations because Miriam tended to expect so much out of life. It was odder still when she was not the one pulling the strings. Looking up at the clear night sky, Miriam felt an unfamiliar sensation. "This must be what letting go feels like," she thought.

And then seconds later, just as Miriam was trying to figure out what this new feeling felt like, everything changed. Henry's hand, which had been just barely grazing her leg as he stretched out on the blanket, moved to her thigh. And she didn't want him to remove it. In fact, she couldn't remember when  a man had last touched her with that kind of attention. Phil had been a good man but she had chosen him because he was a good man. There weren't ever really fireworks between them but there had been a steady warmth that made their home life easy and happy. This was something else entirely. It was as if his touch actually burned her skin.

She laughed to herself and decided that she was being ridiculous. "I am far too old for this kind of nonsense," she decided. And then he kissed her. Not a peck. It was a movie kiss and no one had ever kissed her like that. Not ever.

"Mom?"

Miriam opened her eyes to see Sarah standing over her. As she jumped up, Miriam bumped foreheads with Henry, and they both brought their hands up to their foreheads in a reflexive but pointless protective gesture.

"Sarah, what on earth are you doing here?"

"Leading a seance. What do you think I'm doing? I'm enjoying the concert. I just went to the ladies' room and I got all turned around when I came out."

"You aren't here alone are you?"

"I'm here with Brad. You've met him."

"The Taste Bud Buddy  neighbor person?"

"Yes. Hi Mr. Gordon. How are you?" Sarah decided to ignore the fact that her mother and Henry had just been caught making out on the lawn of the Pembrook Theater. If Miriam had taught her nothing else, she had instilled in her the polite way to interact with all sorts of people under all  sorts of circumstances.

After a few minutes of painful chitchat, Sarah excused herself to find her way back to her own blanket.

As she wandered back through the crowd, retracing her steps, she texted Abigail: "Big news!" Call me!"

As soon as Sarah left, Miriam felt as if someone had doused out whatever heat she was feeling with a bucket of ice water.

"Henry, I've really enjoyed this evening, but I'm feeling a little tired and I think I'd like to get home."

Ever gallant, Henry quickly began packing up the picnic things and within a few minutes, they were headed out together toward the parking lot. At first, Miriam read the expression on his face as sheepish, but on closer inspection, she realized he was simply pensive.

"Miriam, I feel that I may have offended you. It continues to amaze me that none of this male-female stuff ever gets any easier."

Two responses competed for  space in Miriam's larynx.

Response #1: "You seem like..I mean I know you are...a lovely man, Henry but I'm pretty sure those kinds of feelings are far behind me."

Response #2: "I like you and I liked kissing you, but I do not need any more complications at this age."

But neither sentence ever reached Henry's ears because instead of actually saying anything out loud, Miriam turned toward Henry and planted a wet, juicy kiss right on his surprised lips.

Chapter Fourteen

The grounds of the Pembrook Theater looked like a sea of colorful masts as picnic blankets in a wild array of colors adorned the grassy hillside. It was a lovely end-of-summer night with a perfect 72-ish temp and a gentle breeze coming off the lake. As was the custom, people had brought picnic dinners and many of them were incredibly elaborate. Sarah loved to sneak a peek at all the different foods as she strolled around trying to find the perfect spot to lay out her quilt.

If truth be told, Sarah had been having mixed feelings about this whole "un-date" with Brad. On the one hand, she was thrilled to be able to see her favorite singer, Josh Groban, in concert. This would be the fourth time she had been able to see him perform live and she had never left disappointed. However, on the other hand, she was going with Brad and she had tried very hard to keep their relationship congenial but not too congenial. Since his divorce, he had earned a bad reputation for being a bit of a playboy and, in the past, that type of man had tended to be her undoing. She liked the way they were comfortable in their skin and comfortable with her skin. Those types of men tended to know their way around  a female body. Unfortunately, they also tended to know lots of females...and that was KNOW in the biblical sense. After a while, that wandering eye always wandered elsewhere and left Sarah feeling used like yesterday's dishes. As soon as Brad moved in next door, it was if he had a flashing neon warning light tattooed on his forehead screaming "DANGER!" She liked him like cotton candy....a little is lovely but she knew that large doses could be lethal.

Brad had sent her ticket to her via a messenger this afternoon, telling her he had a deal that was closing but that he would find her on the lawn. Brad owned a high-end real estate firm and he was always either closing a deal or about to close a deal or hoping to close a deal. He offered to bring dinner but Sarah insisted that the food would be her contribution to the evening. She liked cooking savory dishes even though baking was her first love. Creating a menu for a picnic was always a bit of a challenge. After all, one had to be able to serve and eat food while sitting on the ground and balancing a plate on your lap. Being a tad clumsy herself, Sarah was extremely cognizant of the messiness factor when creating her menu.

First, she made broiled tuna steaks with a wasabi cream sauce. The tuna was actually best served at room temperature so it would be perfect for the picnic dinner. Then she made a rustic pasta salad filled with broccoli florets and red pepper strips and black olives and lightly dressed in a balsamic vinaigrette.
Last, but hardly least, she brought 4 different cup cakes which they could sample and share: Brad's current favorite, RhuBarbie and Fen (a rhubarb cupcake with a cream cheese frosting with a hint of fennel), her number one seller: Sarah's Sanity (an insane combination of peanut butter cake and a chocolate ganache icing), the Lemon-Lavender cupcakes that Brad had taste-tested a few weeks earlier and a surprise cupcake that she had been working on perfecting.

As soon as Sarah found a spot that suited her, she began to unload the picnic basket and organize their meal. Like clockwork, Brad appeared at the top of the hill nearest her as she finished laying out the last item. She waved to show him where she was located, and he quickly made his way around the other concert goers to take his place on the quilt next to her.

"How did you find me? There must be over 500 people here already!"

"I have a great nose. I just sniffed around for the best food."

"Funny. Am I blushing? Seriously, how did you find me so fast?"

"Sarah, you and I are in sync."

"The band?"

"Ha! No,  we're  on the same wavelength. We dance to the same beat. I am the Zip to your Zap, the Ying to your Yang...."

"The peanut butter to my jelly?"

"Exactly!"

Sarah laughed. "You are incredibly full of shit. Are there really women out there who fall for those lines?"

"You would be surprised how easy it is to woo a woman."

"Why is that?"

"I'm no Dr. Phil, but if you seriously want to know what I think, I'll tell you."

Sarah nodded and motioned her hand for him to continue.

"I think it has to do with the way society sends a message to women..starting when they're girls, that sets a standard for them that is almost impossible to reach. If a man understands this, he can get any woman he wants to spread her legs for him."

"Ugh. That's really classy, Brad."

"OK...I know it sounds awful but women are socialized to believe that they are fundamentally lacking. We sell them millions of products to take hair off and take weight off and add weight to other areas..."

"Like boobs and butts?"

"Exactly. Women are supposed to be built like part Twiggy and part Beyonce."

"Not exactly a realistic goal for most people."

"Right. So that is where the lover of women comes in."

"You mean that is where he takes advantage of the fragile egos?"

"The societally damaged egos."

"OK. Then what?"

"Then he consistently and persistently tries to undo all of the media's messages in her head. He tells her she is thin enough and endowed enough and her hair is straight enough or curly enough and her skin is clear enough or tan enough."

"So he tells her what she wants to hear in order to get in her pants."

"No, it isn't as sinister as all that. He isn't making things up. She is perfect. He's just telling the truth."

Sarah tried to buy herself some time by putting the food on the plates she brought and pouring them each a glass of the chilled Sauvignon Blanc. She was really hating Brad a few seconds ago. She could feel her heart beat racing as she prepared to call him out for his insanely antiquated chauvinist words. But then, somehow, it sort of turned around and ended up someplace....well... sweet. Clearly, her radar was on the fritz. She really couldn't tell the good guys from the bad guys anymore.

After tons of compliments on the dinner, Brad suggested that they take a little break before indulging in the cupcakes. The warm-up act had ended and Josh Groban was taking the stage. Sarah tried to find a comfortable position but no pose felt completely right.

"Allow me," Brad said gallantly as he crossed his legs and put a pillow Sarah had brought with the quilt into his lap. He gently guided her shoulders downward and she lay back resting her head on the pillow. It was a surprisingly comfortable pose.

"You have all the moves, my friend."

"They come in handy sometimes."

The moon shining overhead, Groban's sweet melodies caressing her ears, Sarah was feeling unbelievably content. It didn't hurt that Brad had also been gently massaging her shoulders. She felt loose and liquidy like one of her batters. She must have drifted off into a light sleep because she was having a dream that she and Brad were in bed...together. WHen she jolted awake, there was a loud bang as their jaws collided. Apparently, he was leaning down to give her a soft kiss on her forehead just as she awakened.

"Shit!" Brad screamed. "Why'd you do that?"

"Ow! What were you doing? I fell asleep. I must have jumped up when I was waking up.
Why were you hovering?"

Brad looked slightly sheepish. "OK. Not hovering. You just looked so peaceful. I don't know. Something made me want to kiss you."

At this point, Sarah was sitting up and they were facing each other. "Ok...this is certainly awkward," she thought. So, she did what she always did when life got weird, "Time for cupcakes!"

Chapter Thirteen

The news about Saul had not been good, but after she cradled him and sobbed for the better part of the day yesterday, Miriam resigned herself to the fact that her beloved cat would need to be put to sleep. The other realization she had to accept was that she was not ready to put the cloning in motion. While she was used to being a problem solver, she was also fairly realistic when it came to her rare failures. Besides, she had moved on to bigger things. The idea of pulling a Victor Frankenstein, and creating a man, tantalized her. She had even reached out to a few scientists around the country who were doing work with organ cloning. Dr. Tal Bimni in North Carolina had had amazing luck with cloning kidneys and Dr. Stephanie Vinter at Columbia had successfully cloned a human heart. Mary Shelley based her theories on Galvanism, and her fictional doctor gave new life to dead tissues through electrical impulses. It was all terribly crude of course, by today's standards. The amazing thing is that all of this was no longer the stuff of horror films or science fiction. It was all possible.

Miriam was wrapped up in the flow of  sketching out her plan when the house phone rang. She was tempted to ignore it thinking that anyone whom she actually wanted to speak to would try her on her cell phone. However, after the fifth ring, she grabbed the receiver.

"Yes," she said in a tone that was noticeably clipped.

"Hi. Is this Miriam?"

"Who is this?"

"Is this Miriam?"

"Who is calling?"

This ping-pong like silliness might have continued if the male caller had not put a stop to it.

"Miriam. I know that's you. I recognize your sexy voice. This is Henry. Henry Gordon."

Miriam's voice softened and warmed as if one suddenly wrapped a popsicle in a fur jacket.
"Oh, Henry. Ha...makes me think of that old candy bar. But we aren't old, are we?"

"Certainly not. In fact, that would be why I'm calling."

"To remind me that I'm still young?" And there was a coquettishness in Miriam's tone that hadn't been there since she actually was young.

"After seeing you at Jeff's place last week, I'm sure you don't need any reminder. Speaking of Jeff, he said I shouldn't call you."

"Really?" And Miriam could feel her defenses going up. Why the heck wouldn't Jeff want his father to call her? Didn't he like her? She'd always thought that he'd admired her when he was a young man.

"Nope, he said I should friend you on Facebook. When I told him I have a face and I have a book but I see no need to have a Facebook, he just shrugged and told me I should text you."

Miriam laughed.  "Perhaps you could have tweeted."

"Tweet, Schmeet. What are we? Birds?"

"Well, I completely disagree with Jeff about all this techno-babble.  And you can tell him that I said
 that calling was the perfect thing to do!"

"Believe me, I will! He's a smart cookie, but every once in a while I relish being able to tell him he's wrong."

"I know exactly what you mean!"

"I actually did have a reason for calling...other than proving my son wrong about contemporary communication skills."

"I'm all ears."

"That's funny. When I saw you, you seemed to have a few other body parts as well."

Geez! What was happening here? If she didn't know better, Miriam would have thought Henry was flirting with her! Could he be flirting? Would she even recognize flirting if it slapped her on the rear? It had been so very long.

"Look, I don't want to take too much more of your time, Mims, but I happen to have come into possession of two tickets for this Josh Groban kid at the Pembrook Outdoor Theater this weekend.
Jeff promised me its not that rap stuff. Swears we'll like it and it won't bust out our eardrums. What do you say?"

Miriam thought about it for a minute--because Miriam thought about everything before she did it...and then she said, "Sounds lovely."

So she had been mourning the loss of Saul, and then plotting the creation of a man, and then a man called and asked her out on a date. Life was full of surprises!

Chapter Twelve

Sarah's phone made a muffled DING sound to let her know that she had an email or text and she set down the Lemon-Lavender batter she was working on to pick it up. It was an email from Children Everywhere Inc. and the subject line read: Status change. Sarah was afraid to look. A few weeks ago, she had signed up to be notified of any news pertaining to Bao and Mulu Alem, but this was the first email she'd received.
"We are happy to share news of Mulu Alem. A couple in Toronto have just passed the preliminary stages of our investigation and are on their way to Ethiopia to meet the young boy they hope to include in their growing family. Another happy ending in the making for Children Everywhere!"

Sarah's stomach turned and she realized that she had that queazy feeling in her gut that always signaled a crying jag. "Shit" she thought, I am a crazy single lady loon who falls in love with a kid on the internet and imagines that I could be his mother. The only saving grace, she realized, was that she had not yet shared any of this news with Miriam. For the millionth time in her life, Sarah acknowledged that she had a serious and embarrassing medical condition called "Premature Sharing." She made a mental note to hold onto the private details of her life until they were no longer tenuous. Whether good news or bad, Sarah had a tendency to over-share and share too soon. She had discussed this often with Dr. Lingstrom, and Dr. L's theory was that it was a direct reaction to Miriam's policy of "Necessary Honesty." Since Sarah's mother shared only the information that she absolutely had to share, and even then she shared as few details as possible, Sarah had become a woman who had very few secrets.

In a few hours, Sarah would go to the computer and look at Mulu Alem's sweet face and bid him farewell and a safe journey towards his new life. She would send good thoughts out into the universe to      safeguard and protect the child who, she imagined, could have been her son. In the meantime, after a short break letting her tears fall into a cup of peppermint tea, she did what she always did to calm herself down, she resumed her baking.

Happily, discovering new combinations of ingredients for cupcakes had never lost its appeal for Sarah. She still often woke up having dreamt of a new combo in her sleep. Last night's dreams were filled with lavender fields and lemons. After an early morning trip to the local farmer's market, she began experimenting. After she got the first batch in the oven, the delicate scents of lavender and lemon permeated the air. When the doorbell rang, Sarah knew exactly who it was. Her next door neighbor always stopped by on his way to work in the morning on the days Sarah was road-testing new ingredients. He had a bloodhound's nose when it came to sweets.

"Hey Brad. As always, your nose has impeccable taste."

"Don't tell me. Definitely lemon. Lemon- Basil?"

"Close ....but no cigar. Lemon-Lavender. Aren't you late for work? Another hot date last night?"

"Nope. You'll be happy to hear that I've actually been up and productive for hours. Early conference call and I'm starving. Is it lunchtime yet?"

"This must be the part of the conversation where I invite you in to sample my wares."

"Said the spider to the fly."

Sarah laughed and motioned for Brad to sit down at the kitchen table. "You are so much more spidery than I am!"

"Spidery? Should we add that to the contemporary lexicon like sexting and bromance?"

"Speaking of bromances, how is that cute friend of yours, Steven, doing?"

"And once again you have wounded my fragile male ego. I stupidly introduce you to my perfect friend Steven and you become infatuated with him and I become the proverbial chopped liver."

"Funny. Your Jewish is showing. And, for the record, I am actually not infatuated with Steven. I tend to prefer my men more flawed, fragile egos and all."

And so the usual mildly flirtatious banter was off and running. Sarah forgot how much she missed this fun and frivolous distraction. Brad was not someone she would ever be attracted to romantically, but since she'd gotten to know him as her charmingly goofy and always hungry neighbor, he had grown on her. Nevertheless, she was always glad that she was his friend rather than his lover because he went through those incredibly quickly. In fact, she loved to tease him about his "playboy tendencies."

Brad had actually been married for about fifteen years to a woman named Lizette. Her real name was Elizabeth but she changed it to Lizette after college when she got a job as an intern at a famous fashion maagazine. That story always amused Sarah. She thought that information alone should have been a red flag for Brad, but men think with their eyes ( and other--lower- organs) and not their brains where romance is concerned. Sarah had never met Lizette but she'd seen photos of her and she was the kind of woman who made other women feel like they needed a diet and a makeover. Preferably yesterday. Sarah loved to tease Brad that his taste in women showed  a serious lack of imagination. His usual retort was that at least he was playing the game unlike Sarah who sat watching it from the sidelines. There was too much truth in that to make it seem funny.

Sarah actually enjoyed Brad's company, but he was also an uncannily talented taste-tester. Without fail, if Brad gave a new recipe the thumbs up, it became a top seller at Sarah's Sweet Cakes. Even when the combination of flavors seemed too odd or sophisticated to appeal to the average cupcake eater, if Brad raved about it, it sold. He called her the "Cupcake Whisperer," and she returned the compliment by calling him her "Taste Bud Buddy."

"I'm betting that these overtake Cinnamon Extreme Cream as your number three top seller."

"Seriously? That would surprise me but you are never wrong."

"Could I get that in writing?"

"Let me be more specific. You are never wrong about cupcakes!"

"Someday, you will learn to appreciate me for more than my taste buds. In the meantime, I will just feel tawdry and used."

"Get out of here so we can both get something done today!"

"Ok Miss Subtlety, I'm out of here." Brad was almost out the door when he paused and turned around.
"Are you still a Josh Groban fan?"

"Do you really need to ask. His cds play so much at the shop that customers  ask me if I own any other music!"

"Look, this is not a date, but someone at work gave me two tickets to his concert next week and I cannot honestly think of anyone who would enjoy it more than you."

Sarah ran up and gave Brad a giant hug.

"And I take it thats a yes?"

"Yes! Yes, yes yes! Is it at the Pembrook Outdoor Theater?"

"I think it is."

"Great! Then I'll be in charge of a picnic dinner."

"Perfect. Can we have lemon-lavender cupcakes for dessert?"

"Your wish is my command."

"Be careful. Be very careful. I watched way too many reruns of  'I Dream of Jeannie.' "

Sarah smiled and pushed him out the door. "Life is strange," she thought. "I woke up dreaming of lavender and lemon, got an email that ended my wishful thoughts of a little boy in Ethiopia and ended up with a not-a-date with Brad to see dreamy Josh Groban. Life is a dream!"

Chapter Eleven

"Damn it all to pieces!!!!" Miriam paced back and forth across her living room wearing a deep tread in the already well-worn carpet. She was awaiting another call from Dr. Lin with results on Saul's biopsy. Though she was not terribly self-aware, Miriam had learned that she was one of those people who was a wide angle worrier. Some people get bad news and they obsess about that particular event or situation. They look at it from each direction and dissect it as if trying to deconstruct it to its cellular level. Miriam, on the other hand, took the thing she was worried about and then broadened her gaze, as if she were looking at her world through a wide angle lens. Suddenly, everything was fair game; Saul's illness made her think of her own health and that lead to a whole host of other concerns that bothered her. Because she was a problem solver rather than a problem dweller, she kept track of each and every concern, from the life-threatening to the trivial, in order to eventually combat or resolve it. This is the way her current list looked:

1. Waiting for results of Saul's biopsy.
2. Made her think of her own health concerns...a colonoscopy that needed to be scheduled. A mammogram due soon. A new arthritis pill that made her stomach hurt. An odd sensation in her left elbow.....
3. This made her think about being alone as she aged....
4. Which lead to her obsession about dying alone and being found days later as a smelly rotting corpse. You would think that someone who had spent her career in the medical field would not be so squeamish about natural bodily decay, but it freaked Miriam out terribly.
5. Her dying alone made her think about loneliness which inevitably made her think of Sarah and how unlucky she had been in love. "I wish," she thought for the thousandth time," that I could find a good man for her myself"  Enough of this silly internet dating that felt risky and unrewarding. Surely, she should be capable of figuring out a better solution. Just then, her pacing lead her right into Saul who was curled up in his usual spot near the tassel-like fringes at the end of the rug. Today, Saul was much too tired to mess up the tassels. Today, he simply seemed content to keep an eye on them.
6. Seeing Saul brought Miriam's attention back to issue #1, the state of Saul's health. This made her think about her work in the lab and the cloning process that she had begun. She knew that it was a long-shot but she was amazed by the advances that had occurred in that area and confident (perhaps a bit over-confident) in her ability to replicate the work that had been done in other labs around the world.
7. Somehow, in Miriam's odd little mind, cloning Saul merged with the worries about Sarah into a radical and revolutionary question: "Why couldn't I make a man for Sarah?"

The idea took Miriam so completely by surprise that  her legs literally crumbled beneath her and she collapsed, next to a startled Saul, on the tasseled rug. It wasn't the worst idea she'd ever had, she thought. Of course it was risky and wild but most great moments in her life had begun that way. It was risky and wild for a woman to go to medical school when she had, and yet that had turned out well for her. Miriam tried to think of the kind of man she would construct for Sarah. Physical characteristics came into her mind first. He would need to be:
Handsome not pretty. And not so handsome that people would find him unsympathetic.
Tall. Not gigantic but at least 6'2".
He should have Semitic qualities but she would compromise on the nose. No need for a killer size schnoz on this guy.
Dark wavy hair, the kind that looked like you had good genes not like you were wearing a toupee.
Large hands because well Miriam believed the old adage about finger length matching other body parts in proportion and she was still of the school that believed that size mattered.
With the physical attributes out of the way, Miriam began to consider the character of this man. After all, he would be her son-in-law and she would want him to be gracious and respectful and loyal and solicitous  But she had no patience for sissies or sycophants and knew that any man she made would have one hell of a backbone.
Miriam had spent about forty minutes compiling a list of traits before the following question pushed its way into her consciousness: What would Sarah want?
First of all, Sarah would want Miriam to stay far away from her love life. That was a given. So Miriam moved beyond that, as she moved beyond most givens in her life. Sarah would want him to be smart, both book and street, and she would want him to be a foodie and a democrat and heterosexual..very, very heterosexual!
Miriam thought she would also want him to like dogs more than cats, books more than television, wine more than liquor, casual more than formal, beaches more than mountains, good works more than good thoughts, sex more than sleep.
For a moment an odd word popped into Miriam's brain, a word she had spent very little time thinking about during her entire life. The word was SOUL. As a scientist, she had spent her life focusing on things that could be seen, things that could be taken apart, things that could be explained. A soul was part of that other world, the world that Miriam felt less interested in. Or, maybe she just felt less comfortable with that world. She was a fixer of problems, a fixer of bodies, and four-letter words like LOVE and SOUL had remained mysteries to her.
 "Every damn thing is available on the internet these days," she thought with a grin on her face, "maybe I should try www. souls.com!"
The phone rang, jolting her out of her reverie, and Miriam braced herself to learn Saul's fate. While she was still enormously concerned for her beloved feline's welfare, her thoughts were only partially consumed with Saul. "Whatever happens," she thought, "I have a plan."

Chapter TEN

Sarah felt uneasy in the way she always felt uneasy when she had to tell her mother something that Miriam would not want to hear. The entire day, Sarah had felt as if the words themselves were actively engaged in a battle to stay buried in her gut. It was a familiar sensation. She had felt this way when she called from the airport to tell her parents why her honeymoon was being cut short and why she was returning home alone. She had felt this way when she drove Miriam to the empty storefront and explained to her that she would be opening up a bakery as her full-time career. Damn it anyway! When was she  going to stop caring what Miriam thought?

Just then her cell phone rang and Sarah answered to hear her mother screaming into the phone, "Wake up, Saul!"
"Mom, what's going on? What's wrong with Saul?"
Her mother's words were clipped and filled with anxiety. "I don't know. I don't know. I think I've roused him but I need to take him to see Dr. Lin."
"If you need to take a raincheck on our dinner, we can do it later this week."
There was a long pause before Miriam responded. "No, I'm sure I'll be back by 6pm. I want to hear your news."
Sarah sighed quietly and understood that there would be no reprieve today. 'OK, Mom. I hope Saul is fine. Call me when you get back from the Vet's."

After they hung up, Sarah got on the internet again and perused the website that had become her latest obsession. Her friend, Carrie, had suggested this site because it was the same one her sister had used when she adopted her son from Russia. Children Everywhere Inc. had a stellar reputation and had even been written up in the NY Times a few months ago as one of the only international adoption agencies that actually did the rigorous research necessary to create a full and complete health profile for each child in their database. They also were one of the only agencies that worked in multiple countries and regions.

Sarah had some qualms about looking for children in the same way one would shop for shoes online, but she realized that as the world had changed, so had the possibilities for bringing lives together in a kind of extended global family. Some days, the thought that all of these children were in need of homes was overwhelming to her. So many beautiful faces and sad eyes staring back at her from the computer screen always moved Sarah and made her want to adopt all of them rather than just one child. The practical side of her, however, knew that one child would be plenty for her to handle on her own. She figured that she'd probably looked at the photos and descriptions of at least 60 kids in four or five different countries, but there were two whom she came back day after day.

There was a three year old girl from a rural province in China whose given name was Bao and a five year old boy from Ethiopia named Mulu Alem.  Sarah had been fascinated by the names and when she searched for their meanings on the internet, she was startled at how perfect the translations were. Bao means "precious treasure," and the boy's name translates as "whole world." No matter how many children's faces she saw, it was Bao and Mulu Alem who played together in her dreams.

Miriam called a few hours later to say that Dr. Lin had suggested that Saul stay overnight at the animal hospital so he could be properly monitored. That left Miriam free to go to dinner. Sarah picked her up and they headed over to the Urban Appetite where Jeff had reserved a lovely corner table for them.
As soon as the hostess seated them, Miriam leaned over and whispered into Sarah's ear, "I take it by the three table settings that Jeff will be joining us for dinner. You're really making it much too easy to guess your little surprise, darling."
As awareness of Miriam's misunderstanding trickled into her brain, Sarah tried to think of a quick way to avert the inevitable disaster that would ensure when Miriam learned that she had made a faulty assumption. However,  before she had time for damage control, Jeff appeared at the table with an elderly man in tow. The man looked vaguely familiar, but Sarah couldn't quite place him. Miriam, on the other hand, jumped right up and gave him a very uncharacteristically warm embrace. "My God Miriam,"  he said."You are a sight for sore eyes. What kind of witchcraft has kept you looking like a fifty-year old when all the rest of us have aged?"
Jeff noticed the quizzical look on Sarah's face and grabbed her by the elbow to join the others. "Sarah, you remember my dad, Henry, don't you?"
Sarah stepped back and looked at the two men and the striking family resemblance. He had much less hair than the last time she'd seen him, but he still had the twinkly eyes and deep voice that Sarah remembered from years ago.
"Of course. Mr. Gordon, its so good to see you!" Sarah hugged the elderly gentleman and realized that he was still a strong hugger. When he hugged you, you felt that he meant it.
Miriam had an odd little smile on her face that Sarah had missed seeing for quite a long time.
"Last I heard, you'd retired to Florida. Palm Beach wasn't it?"
"You're still sharp as a tack, Mims. Yup. Spent about eight years down there but it didn't really agree with me. A man can only take so much sun and relaxation," he said with a grin.
The servers were struggling to get by the four adults reminiscing in the restaurant's precious standing area, so Jeff gently guided them back to their seats.
"I hope it wasnt too presumptuous of me,"he said, "but I had them set a place at your table for dad. I figured he and Miriam would have lots of catching up to do after all these years."
Sarah looked up at Jeff and could've sworn he winked at her, but before she could respond, he'd walked back to the kitchen. She did notice the questioning glance that Miriam sent her way, but it was quickly altered into an expression of .... What was that expression on her mother's face? If she didn't know her better, she would have said that her mother was actually flirting. How funny would that be!!!

Chapter Nine

Miriam unlocked the door of the laboratory she'd rented, and hung her briefcase and her purse on the hook by the door. Then she locked and double-locked the door behind her. She smiled to herself as she replayed the phone conversation she had just had with Rona while driving to the lab. Rona was convinced that Miriam had a secret lover and that was why she had been acting "so mysterious" lately. Certainly, Miriam's behavior had probably raised a few red flags with those who knew her well. After all, whenever she immersed herself in a new project, she had the tendency to become obsessive about it. Since Rona knew that Miriam was retired from her medical career, she assumed that Miriam must be seeing someone. Miriam decided that it was fun to have a secret. Besides, Rona and the girls would absolutely have her committed if they knew what she was really up to.


There was an odd scent in the air leftover from the previous renters. Perhaps it was formaldehyde, but Miriam couldn't be sure. The odor didn't bother her. On the contrary, she actually enjoyed the smell of chemicals; it was bodily odors that had always felt like an assault to her senses. When the girls were in diapers, she'd turned stinky diaper changes over to Granny Sue or Phil. "My nose is too sensitive," she'd say. Here in the lab, among the smells and equipment that had been such an integral part of her life for so long, Miriam felt herself come to life again. She was back in her element. This was probably the greatest challenge she'd ever undergone and it completely captivated her. The secrecy surrounding it added significantly to her enjoyment. 


She sat down on a metal stool at the counter and tried to determine which traits of Saul's were most important to her to replicate. Fleetingly, the God-like nature of her task startled her, but she dismissed her doubts as swiftly as one might shoo away a pesky mosquito. Miriam was not a woman who was accustomed to second-guessing herself. Even when others convinced her that she was wrong, she had a hard time admitting it. 


Once, when she was a young girl, she had seen a dog in the alley behind her house running with something in his mouth. A tall man ran behind him and yelled what Miriam assumed must have been the dog's name. "Badger! Badger!" he screamed. Miriam watched the scene unfold as if she were transfixed. When the man finally reached the dog, he yanked on a chain around the dog's neck  and Miriam could see that the dog had a small baby clenched between his very sharp teeth. Most little girls would have been horrified by the scene, but Miriam was merely fascinated. As Miriam walked closer to get a better look, she realized that the baby was a very lifelike rag doll. At that point, Miriam became quite a bit less enthralled, but she stayed to watch the outcome nevertheless. 


The man's first approach was aggressive; he tried to use his strength to pull the doll away from the dog, but that just made Badger dig in deeper. Then, he took something out of his pocket as if he was going to offer it up as a trade, but the dog seemed completely disinterested. Finally, he tried to outsmart the dog. The man walked away as if he had given up, as if Badger had won. Miriam thought she even heard him mutter, "she's all yours, you damn mutt!" Suddenly, he turned around and grabbed the doll again, clearly hoping that Badger's grip would have lessened, that the dog would have let down his guard. It didn't work and the man went home empty-handed, presumably to explain to his young daughter that he would have to buy her another doll. That scene made an indelible mark on Miriam's brain. Most girls would have sympathized with the doll owner. They would have feared the dog's aggression and tenacity. But Miriam was never like most girls. She decided from that day on to be Badger. She would be fearless and unyielding. Nothing would ever be taken from her grip until she was done with it. She believed that these Badger-like qualities had served her well. After all, hadn't she kept Phil around twenty-three years longer than his doctors had predicted?


Now, she was trying to make sure that her beloved cat would have another chance at life. She thought that cloning was especially fitting for felines since they were already supposed to have nine lives. Miriam took out a pen and yellow legal pad from her briefcase and started to make a list of the supplies she would need. When her cell phone rang, it took her a few minutes to track down where she'd put it. She found it on the counter nearest the door just before the last ring. 


"Mom!" Sarah said. "Where have you been? I've tried you for the last twenty minutes."
"I don't know how that could be," Miriam said. "The phone's been here with me all along." Miriam assumed that she had been so immersed in the flow of her project that she'd completely ignored the phone's ringing.
"Where is here?"
Miriam truly disliked lying, but her policy of "Necessary Honesty" sometimes required that she get creative with the truth. "I'm out and about."
"Mother, you are acting so odd. Odder than usual. Rona called me. She's really worried that you're up to something. She thinks that you're dating someone and you're trying to protect us from him or maybe you're protecting him from us." Sarah paused and laughed at herself. 
"I'm sorry, Mom. Honestly, I didn't mean for that to sound like the Inquisition.  I hope you are dating. I hope you've met someone wonderful. I mean it."
Miriam was both touched by her daughter's concern and tickled by how off-the-mark she was. 
"I am not in the market for a new man, thank you very much. If I find a great guy, I will be sure to send him your way, my dear."
Sarah sighed audibly and realized that, once again, Miriam had escaped the hot seat by focusing the attention back on Sarah. 
"Not cool, Mother! My love life is not open for discussion."
"Have you seen Jeff lately?"
"Subtle, Mom. Actually, he stopped by the store yesterday to sample some new dessert options for the restaurant. He had his daughters with him. It seems that Kate is a bit interested in baking. I showed her all around the kitchen and she seemed genuinely fascinated. I told her that she could come apprentice one summer when she gets a little older. She seemed thrilled. Her twin sister Kelly, on the other hand, didn't seem one speck interested in anything to do with food. Jeff told me that she is actually a very accomplished equestrian who has racked up an impressive array of  medals at horse shows. I told her about my unfortunate attempt to ride a horse when I was at summer camp."
"You've ridden a horse since then haven't you? That was a million years ago!"
"Not quite a million, Mother. And no, I did not abide by common wisdom and get right back on the horse, so I'm still pretty terrified."
"How on earth did I raise such a fearful daughter?"
"Just lucky, I guess. Anyway, I'd love to dissect my flaws once again with you but I actually called you for a reason. I've made a decision about something and I know it will surprise you, but I need to let you know what I'm going to do."
"That sounds awfully ominous," said Miriam.
"Not really, but I do need to tell you in person so let's have dinner tomorrow night. Where would you like to go?"
"Let's meet at Urban Appetite at 7pm."
"Mom, you just want to go there to push me in Jeff's face."
"You're being ridiculous, Sarah. I simply have a craving for his crab cakes."
"Fine. Whatever. Shall I pick you up at 645?"
"No, lets meet there. I have some errands to run tomorrow afternoon."
After the call ended, Miriam gazed at the list she'd been writing, but her eyes weren't focusing on any of the supplies. Instead, she was trying to figure out what Sarah's secret might be. Funny, Miriam thought, I'm not the only one who is acting mysterious!

Chapter Eight

Sarah was just on her way out the door when her cell phone rang and Becky, her bakery manager, informed her that Carlos, the delivery guy, was just driving up to the shop. Sarah had been headed over to her store to make the deliveries herself after Becky had called twenty minutes earlier to tell her that Carlos was MIA. Another crisis averted! Once again Sarah realized that the life of an entrepreneur was not for the faint-hearted. With enormous relief, she hung her raincoat back on the hook and settled into her cozy chair for a rare day off. It was a gloomy Sunday, and she had had an odd evening the night before and relished the thought of some solitude and calm. Actually, she had also imbibed more than her usual amount (three and a half rather than two glasses) of her favorite Australian Shiraz, and her head was throbbing.
Of course, it was a classic dating error, drinking more alcohol when the date is not going well in the hopes that the buzz will somehow make the evening more bearable. It rarely works and always leaves you feeling terrible the next morning. Today was no exception.

Sarah brewed a pot of ginger tea, making it extra strong the way she liked it, in the hope that it would settle both her head and stomach. Then she settled back into her cozy chair and tried to figure out why the evening had been so unsuccessful. The man she met for dinner, S-43, looked like the great uncle of the man whose smiling face she'd seen in his profile on the Singles.com website. Sarah always found it slightly disconcerting when men felt the need to showcase a younger, better-looking version of themselves in order to make a great cyber-impression. It made her want to be even more vigilant about posting updated photos of herself.

Sarah had kept a log of all the men she'd met on the site, and if she only met them once or twice, she continued to think of them by the numerical nickname she assigned them. S-43 was the forty-third man she'd met from the Singles site. Abby had given her an embroidered pillow once that said "There are plenty of fish in the sea....keep on casting!" Sarah was ready to retire her hook and she was starting to  think that perhaps her lures were not all that alluring. The men she attracted were never captivating to her; in all honesty, she found most of them bored her to tears. Sometimes, she pretended that she was a reporter and the man across the table from her was some famous movie star or diplomat that she had to write a cover story about. The men usually loved this approach because they felt that Sarah was fascinated by them and eager to soak up each juicy drop of their life story.

S-43's story went something like this:
*Born in Indiana to a self-absorbed mother who had wanted to be an actress but never got out of the small town she'd been born in after getting knocked up by the local high school football star at 17.
*Raised by his mother and a fairly long list of step-fathers  or "uncles" from her 6 marriages and assorted other relationships, he had always felt the lack of a dependable male role model.
*Put himself through Indiana State on a wrestling scholarship.
*Married his college sweetheart and moved to Chicago for a job opportunity with her father.
*Had three sons. Now ages 25, 22 and 20. The twenty-five year old had attended the Naval Academy and was now on a ship overseas. The middle son was graduating from Northwestern and would be looking for work for a year before probably going to Law School. The youngest had been their "problem child," finding himself in and out of rehab after multiple encounters with the law over drug-related charges. S-43 teared up when he spoke of him and Sarah felt moved by his fatherly devotion, but also a bit reluctant about getting involved with someone who had such large and unresolved parenting issues. It was one thing to marry and start a family and deal together with life's hurdles, it was another thing entirely to join the journey mid-stream and walk into someone's else's challenges with your eyes wide open. Suitcase number one.
*S-43 had suffered a bout of prostate cancer last year at 49, but he seemed to feel fine now. Though there were still some residual "kinks in the equipment," the doctors had assured him that the prognosis was good. More baggage; another heavy suitcase.
*S-43 assured Sarah that he and his ex had a friendly relationship but not TOO friendly. "We get on really well, and even though it would be easy to be "exes with benefits," we've avoided intimacy since our divorce, for the most part." For the most part??????? Suitcase number three!!!!!
*He had a severe allergic reaction to ant bites and carried an EPI-pen with him at all times.
*S-43 had been in the real estate business but since the economy tanked, he has had to look for a different line of work. He recently took bartending lessons and juggling classes and was hoping to open up a circus-themed bar called "Send in the Clowns." He described the decor for  Sarah, a riotous mix of  Barnum & Bailey memorabilia (which he'd luckily been collecting for forty years--ever since he attended  a performance on his tenth birthday) and servers dressed as clowns. Before Sarah could stop him, S-43 pulled over one of the waiters at the restaurant and asked for five lemons, whole not sliced.
When she brought them to the table, S-43 regaled Sarah and the rest of the diners with an impromptu juggling performance. It was almost flawless, but he did send one lemon flying into a rather distinguished looking gentleman's lobster bisque. At that point, the restaurant manager gently asked S-43 to end the performance.
*S-43 also shared with Sarah that he has an odd little tattoo on his right butt cheek that says "No way!!"
He explained the tattoo's origins to Sarah  with a very long and involved story that included a fraternity brother's dare and a bowl of vodka-filled strawberry jello.

By the end of the evening, Sarah knew all of the above facts about S-43 and a few others which are equally arbitrary and revealing. This is what he did NOT know about Sarah by the end of the evening:

*She has a violent fear of snakes and clowns.
*She wishes that she could be a mother.
"Her first marriage ended on the honeymoon.
*She hates red roses and loves yellow tulips.
"She owns a bakery called "Sarah's Sweet Cakes."
"She hates internet dating.
"He was her 43rd date from the Singles.com site.
*She is very close to her sister Abigail's children.
*She loves her mother but finds her controlling nature exhausting to deal with.
*She's allergic to almonds and often wakes up smelling the scent of fresh vanilla beans.
*She loves her yoga class and finds some of the poses make her insanely horny.
*She loves reading People Magazine and US Weekly but fervently denies her addiction.
*She is still waiting to have her adolescent rebellion.
*The World According to Garp was the book that turned her into a reader.
*If she were limited to one type of food and only that food for the rest of her life, she'd choose pickles over cake.
*The body part she is most proud of is her shockingly symmetrical toes.
*She adores roasted brussel sprouts.
*She once ate forty-three hotdogs in an hour to beat a boyfriend in a hotdog-eating contest.
*She secretly hopes to marry again on April 4th, 2014 the day that  she turns 44. Considering that that date is only about 20 months away, Sarah realizes that it seems highly unlikely that her wish will come to pass.

These are things that S-43 DID know about Sarah by the end of the evening.

*She likes to cook.
*She grew up in Chicago.
*She is a very, very, very, very, very good listener.

Chapter Seven

Miriam unlocked the door to her study and surveyed the scene. As usual, there were towering stacks of books and papers taking up almost every inch of surface space in the cozy little room. This had always been Miriam's favorite room in the house. Phil used to say, "You love it best because you can lock all the rest of us out of it." It sounded like a criticism but he always said it with a smile, and Miriam knew that he was one of those rare men who actually appreciated his wife's eccentricities. Miriam paused for a moment because she could have sworn she heard Phil say his other favorite line:"Living with you,  Mims, is like a carnival ride, ups, downs and upside-downs." Then she squeezed her way into the room and pushed Sadie off the desk chair so she could sit down. This wasn't the first time since Phil's death that she had felt his presence in a room. His ghostly presence was not  troubling to her; in fact, Miriam actually found it comforting. She sometimes wished he'd make himself known more often. Perhaps he could move the curtains around a bit or turn some lights on and off. Miriam knew she would get a big kick out of that kind of ghostly bravado.

The stacks of books and papers would have been daunting to someone less driven than Miriam, but even at 76, her Type A personality was still going strong. Rona loved to tease her about it. Years ago, the Steinbergs had taken Rona and several of her kids on one of their family vacations to Provence where they had rented a big house. Every day, Miriam would read a list of options for the day divided into how many hours away from the house the outing would take. That is why her daily list became known as the "3-5-7's." Miriam always chose the 7-hour day trip, while Rona chose the 3 hour one and spent the rest of the day reading by the beautiful pool that overlooked hills covered with olive trees. Sarah had whispered to Rona at one point in the trip, "When I'm in charge of the universe, we will call the outing options "1-2-3's and somedays, we might never leave the house at all!"

The late evening sun was streaming through the pale yellow linen curtains and Miriam allowed herself a moment to enjoy the warmth before settling into her project. Using the hunt and peck method (having never learned to be a proficient typist), Miriam typed "Dolly the Sheep updates" into the google search bar. Dolly, the first mammal successfully cloned from an adult cell, had been born in July of 1996 and passed away about 6 1/2 years later. At the time, Miriam had not paid a lot of attention to the whole cloning debate. Usually, she came down on the side of science; she was, after all, a woman who had given her life to the pursuit of medicine and science was the goddess she worshipped.  Recent events had motivated Miriam to find out more about the breakthroughs in cloning since Molly's death in 2003. Surely, substantial progress had been made.

A few weeks ago, when Miriam took Saul to the vet because of a limp he'd suddenly developed, she was told that poor Saul had a tumor on his spine that would eventually cause him to become paralyzed.
The news had hit Miriam hard; she realized that she'd relied heavily on the companionship of Saul and Sadie since Phil's death. Unlike another type of woman, Miriam spent no time railing against the inequity of the universe. Rather, her mind immediately tried to search for a solution. After the veterinarian who specialized in feline cancer gently assured Miriam that there was nothing to be done in Saul's case, Miriam searched her brain for other options. That is when the story of Dolly jumped into her head. Miriam's online research lead her to tons of info on SCNT or somatic cell nuclear transfer. Through her research, Miriam learned that the process involved the transfer of a living cell from an adult animal into an unfertilized egg from which the nucleus had already been removed.

Saul was such a gentle soul and such a loyal companion, why shouldn't she try to replicate his genetic perfection? Of course, the girls would be against the idea if they knew. They'd give her an awful time about messing with nature and perverting the natural order of life. That is why Miriam would not be sharing this project with them anytime soon. In fact, her "Necessary Honesty" policy was going to come in very handy with this little venture.

Miriam returned to the search engine screen and one of the entries farther down the page caught her eye. "Mary Shelley's doctor would feel right at home in San Diego lab." Miriam had not read Frankenstein since she was a sophomore at Mount Holyoke, but it had always been one of her favorite books. Of course, she thought that everyone came down too hard on the young doctor. Her classmates had seen Viktor Frankenstein's desire to create life as the epitome of hubris, but Miriam had admired his bravery. They had argued that only God should have the power to create life, but Miriam had held her ground. "If I could guarantee you the birth of a child free from birth defects or illness and with an astoundingly high IQ, would you honestly refuse?" To the best of Miriam's recollection, the professor had abruptly ended the debate and moved the class to a close reading of Shelley's husband, Percy Bysshe Shelley's,  poetry.

Now, all these many years later, Miriam began to wonder again about the creation of life. The sheer grandeur of this project motivated her like nothing else had in recent years. Sure, Frankenstein's monster was physically loathsome, but he'd had the capacity to feel love and to learn. In Miriam's mind, he certainly wasn't a complete failure. Of course, she must acknowledge that he caused the deaths of most of Frankenstein's loved ones. Even Miriam had to admit that that was certainly a very high price to pay for scientific progress.  So, she would proceed with caution. Miriam heard a gentle mew and looked down where Saul lay in the patch of sunlight streaming through the curtains. She knew what she had to do.

Chapter SIX

Sarah sat on the overstuffed orange gingham chair and stared at the phone. She had just hung up with Abigail, and Abby had  filled her in on Miriam's latest mission: fixing up Sarah and Jeff. Ever since their dinner at The Urban Appetite, Miriam had been consumed with the idea that Sarah should become involved with Jeff. It didn't seem to phase Miriam at all that Jeff was reeling from a bad divorce and commuting back and forth from Seattle where his ex still lived with their fourteen year old twin daughters.

Sarah had shared all of this information with Miriam, on multiple occasions. Abby confirmed that she had also tried, without success, to steer Miriam clear of the Sarah + Jeff matchmaking mission.
"You know mom," Abby had said a few minutes earlier on the phone. "Once she gets an idea in her head, she's like a dog with a bone."
The sisters had laughed about it, but the truth was that at 42, Sarah was more than ready for Miriam to butt out of her love life. Sarah had always had a little secret crush on Jeff, but they lived in different states most of their adult lives and then she'd heard that he had married and started a family.
Besides, when they reconnected a few months ago when he came back to town to open the restaurant, he seemed like the walking wounded, barely functioning on auto-pilot. He was energized about his new venture, but he seemed incredibly depressed otherwise. He missed his daughters terribly and bemoaned the fact that his business partners wanted a Chicago restaurant rather than one in Seattle. On the one hand, Chicago was home, and he was happy to return to the city he'd grown up in. But, on the other hand, he was devastated about moving away from Kelly and Kate. The twins were old enough  to fly back and forth to spend time with their dad when he couldn't get back to Seattle, but he knew it was a poor substitute for being together every day. When he showed her the site of the new restaurant, Jeff had confided in Sarah that, besides being a chef, parenting was the only thing he believed he really excelled at.

Sarah tried to get her mind to switch gears; she needed to work out the kinks in her new mini-bundt cake recipes. Her troubled lovelife would still be there waiting whenever she had a free minute to obsess about it. When Rara had come to the store to help her with the taste-testing, the Orange Creamsicle cake with the Basil-Orange Glaze had tasted sort of medicinal, definitely NOT the taste Sarah had been aiming for. That would need some tweaking before it could be given a test-drive at Sarah's Sweet Cakes. The other problem recipe was the Chocolate Surprise Cake with Mocha Ganache. The "surprise" was a mocha cream filling, but the one Rara tested was super sweet and she suggested that Sarah decrease the sugar in it by half.

Then, of course, there was also her monthly appointment  with Dr. L.  which was scheduled for later that afternoon. What lovely topic would she bring to Dr. L's office today? Sarah sometimes joked that her appointments felt like making a monthly pilgrimage to the Oracle at Delphi. With her waist-length gray hair piled in a neat and luxurious bun on top of her head and her red reading glassed perched there as well as if adding ornamentation, Dr. L. looked like Woody Allen's cinematic version of a shrink. Her tone of voice did not dispel that image either. She spoke with a fairly subtle British accent suffused with
warmth. She could be stern when she needed to be, especially when one of her beloved patients needed a reality check, but she was also capable of the most profound and genuine degree of empathy.

Sarah sometimes thought that Dr. L. was the mother she would have created for herself if she ran the universe, but she also knew that that thought was not entirely fair to Miriam. After all, Miriam was really not the maternal sort in the classic sense. She loved her daughters fiercely and loyally, but they
challenged her need to control her world, and she found that unsettling. Abby had done more of the things that Miriam had expected her daughters to do. She'd met and married a good man. She'd had three children who went to private school and took ballet lessons and played team sports and got good grades. Abby and her husband had also taken over the family clothing business when Miriam's brother, Leo needed to retire, and they had made Kahn's Menswear a greater success than its original owners could ever have dreamed.

Sarah had chosen a career that Miriam felt was too stereotypically female. Once, in a fit of anger, she had yelled at Sarah, "I didn't push my way past the glass ceiling to have my daughter settle down comfortably beneath it. Why would you waste your enormous intellect doing a task that anyone with a sixth grade education could do?"
That had hurt Sarah much more than she'd ever admitted, and she had been wary around Miriam for several years after that awful incident. Once Sarah's Sweet Cakes became a financial success, Miriam had backed down a bit. Lately, she had even been caught driving by to show off Sarah's shop to her new acquaintances. Sarah never acknowledged that she'd seen one of Miriam's drive-bys, but it made her feel good to know that her mother was proud of what she'd accomplished. That reminded her of one of Dr. L's favorite lines, "No honest human being will ever say that they are too old to seek their parents' approval. We want it. We need it. And when we don't get it, we feel incomplete."

Maybe that should be the topic of today's session, Sarah thought. Incompleteness. The feeling one has of living their life at 80%.  Sarah wondered if it was common. Perhaps, it was even an epidemic. She remembered reading Betty Friedan's iconic book, The Feminine Mystique, in college and being fascinated by what Friedan called, "the problem that has no name." For generations of women, the nameless problem was an overwhelming sense of sadness, of being stuck in a life that did not fulfill them. Sarah's life was filled with choices and options, but there were things that she wanted that she couldn't have. Yes, they would talk about that today. She and the Oracle would discuss the missing 20%.

Chapter Five

Miriam tied the belt on her raincoat and turned to say goodbye to her two cats, Saul and Sadie. Ever since Phil's death, she had felt especially grateful for their company. A house could never really feel empty when one had pets; they claimed the space as their own and made the house feel lived in. Miriam was shocked at her own bouts of loneliness. She had always assumed, since Phil was older than her, that he would pre-decease her. She'd known that she would miss him, but she'd expected to love the solitude and independence living alone would bring her. That had not really been the case. There were definitely moments when the quiet of her household felt nice and welcome, but more often than not, she filled the silence with the television in an attempt to stave off feelings of isolation. Phil had been a good companion. Miriam was not sure if he was what the girls today liked to refer to as "soulmate material," but he had made her life better and fuller and that had seemed like more than enough.

Miriam heard Sarah toot her horn and she locked the door and walked out into the rain to get into Sarah's red SUV. The logo for Sarah's Sweet Cakes was boldly painted on the car's sides with a delicious-looking graphic of a chocolate cake.
"Where should we go for dinner?" Miriam asked. Sarah, the foodie, was always in charge of their restaurant choice.
"I've got an idea, mom. Just sit back and relax and you'll see where we're headed."
Miriam did lean back in the large leather seat, but she could not relax. She loved her daughter, both of her daughters, but Sarah was a bit of a mystery to her. Abigail had always seemed more like Miriam. She took life by the horns and got things done. Sarah was the dreamer; she was more like her father. If life was the ocean, then Sarah was like a beach ebbing and flowing, expanding and diminishing, dependent on the powerful water's force acting upon her. That made Miriam crazy. It also made Miriam worry. Sarah had always seemed vulnerable to her, the fragile daughter. Even after all these years of mothering her, Miriam was still not sure how best to help her. She had tried coaxing. She had tried nagging. She had tried circumventing Sarah altogether and trying to steer her life for her. She had almost lost Sarah's love at one point, at least Miriam had felt that it was a possibility, but that was years ago now. Miriam and Sarah had both tried to put that period behind them, and usually they succeeded.

Sarah expertly pulled her SUV into a parallel parking space in a neighborhood of the city that Miriam was not very familiar with.

"Where are we?" Miriam tried to keep any hint of judgement or displeasure out of her voice, but this was not her kind of place.
"Relax, mom. You'll like it. I promise.Try to be open-minded." Sarah sighed audibly and Miriam realized, yet again, that their relationship was always going to be like walking on thin ice. Miriam decided to step carefully.
"It looks...interesting. What kind of food do they serve?"
"The menu's pretty eclectic. It just opened last week. The head chef trained in Paris after working for about fifteen years as a pediatrician."
"He went to medical school for all those years and then just threw it down the toilet?" Miriam could not keep the disgust from seeping into her voice.
"Yup. That is exactly what he did. Come on in, I'll introduce you."
As they walked in the door, they were greeted by a lovely young woman, who lead them to a cozy little booth in the corner. The restaurant was really lovely. Even Miriam had to admit that the ambience was both chic and comfortable.
As both women were reading through the menu, a tall and very attractive dark-haired man walked over to the table. Miriam looked up and seemed genuinely startled.
"Jeff? What on earth are you doing here?"
Sarah laughed and jumped up to give Jeff a hug. "I knew you'd be surprised, mom."
"How on earth did you know he would be here?"
"Mom, you are so clueless sometimes! This is Jeff's restaurant. He's the Doctor turned chef I was telling you about."
"Oh, for heaven's sake. Why must everything be a surprise with you?" Then Miriam got her bearings and stood up to hug this lovely man from their past.

Jeffrey Gordon had grown up in the house across the street from the Steinbergs. When he had first thought about becoming a doctor, as a high school sophomore, he had asked to shadow Miriam at work one week during the winter break. That went so well, that he became a regular summer intern for Miriam and the other doctors in her practice. She had heard, through the grapevine, that he had left medicine to pursue a culinary career, but since he'd moved to Seattle after medical school, Miriam had not stayed in close touch with him. Sometimes, she imagined that if she and Phil had had a son, he would have been a lot like Jeff. He was in school with Abby, but they never really hit it off, even though Miriam tried her best to throw them together whenever she could. Abby and Sarah used to joke that Miriam was grooming Jeff to be Abby's husband.
"I hope you're not too disappointed in me, Dr. S." Jeff slyly winked at Sarah as he said this, alluding to the earlier conversation that they had had about that very subject.
"I'll admit its hard for me to fathom," Miriam said. "All those years of training and then establishing your pediatric practice in Seattle. Seems like a lot to give up."
"All depends how you look at it. To me, I was just embracing the next challenge. I was pretty good at being a doctor, but the future felt very predictable. I guess you could say that I wanted to spice things up."
"Very fitting culinary metaphor," Sarah interjected.
"Listen, I really have to get back to the kitchen, but I've prepared a special tasting menu for you two tonight. My treat. And don't be too hard on me Sarah; you're years ahead of me in this cooking business."
"No worries. I'm just hyper-judgmental about desserts.
Jeff winked at her for the second time that night. "Good thing we only serve yours here then."
"What?" Miriam perked up at the mention of Sarah's business.
"That's right, mom. Sarah's Sweet Cakes is now the official puveyor of desserts for The Urban Appetite."
"What a lovely collaboration, you two. Okay enough talking now. Bring us some food, Jeffrey; I'm famished!"
Sarah was thrilled that the surprise had worked so well and she knew that Jeff was happy that they were there to support him. She was also happy that the restaurant looked full and the diners looked like they were enjoying themselves. She knew how picky people could be about spending their dining out dollars, and she hoped that The Urban Appetite would find a niche here. It would be fun to have Jeff close by again.

CHAPTER FOUR

At Dr. Lingstrom's suggestion, Sarah had begun keeping a journal of her thoughts. In many ways, it was freeing. She could regurgitate all of her worries onto the blank page and then purge them from her thoughts. She had almost filled an entire journal writing about her childhood, and some of the memories that emerged surprised her. Dr. L said it was good to put everything out there and then give herself permission to move past it. That was the goal at least--moving past the past and living in the present, living free and unencumbered. The biggest hurdle to getting on with her life was still the Ted fiasco. Sarah knew that she had done lots of work already, with Dr. L. and on her own, to take the sting out of those memories and to forgive him. The last step, according to Dr. L., would be to forgive herself.

Sarah sat down on her purple velveteen couch, her favorite piece of furniture in her cozy little house, and began to write about the chapter of her life that she still found the most painful.

"When I met Teddy Kaplan, I wanted to like him. He had so many of the qualities I'd listed in my head under the title: IDEAL MATE. I wanted to like him, but something kept holding me back. Now, I grudgingly admit it was WISE SARAH, my intuitive inner voice, but it was easy to ignore her back then. I dismissed her by telling myself that I was always too cautious and that I wasn't getting any younger. Pretty soon, her nagging warnings got fainter and fainter and I could hardly make out what she was saying. But I digress, Ted was not really my type, but he was charming and he had his heart set on wooing and winning me. It was flattering to be the object of this very successful man's attention even if he was not exactly the man I would have chosen. He had great game. He was the only man I'd met who actually seemed best described by the word dapper. He was fluent in French and Italian and had lived abroad for two years after college. I learned to overlook his goofy red hair and his awkward overly wet kissing style. I tried to see his horribly written romantic poems as endearing. Hell, I was hearing my biological  clock ticking so loudly in my head that  reason and common sense were blocked out by the B*A*B*Y-tick-tocking in my brain. I might as well have been a car driving down the freeway at 100 miles an hour on cruise control.


Teddy had grown up in New York City and he wore the Big Apple like expensive cologne. He knew  how to get the best seats at Broadway shows and which chefs were opening up new restaurants. I had only lived in Manhattan for a few months when we met, and he became my guide to this very enticing city. I guess that I was falling in love with NYC as much as falling in love with Ted; the two were probably interchangeable in my mind. It didn't hurt that my culinary school hours were grueling and, if left to my own devices, I would have come home to my depressing little apartment every night and collapsed on the tiny twin bed with bad springs. Ted rescued me from my reclusive tendencies and got me out into the city to explore and enjoy what it had to offer. I learned where to get the best cheesecake at two in the morning and which bar was frequented by the movie stars who had seen better days. He introduced me to sushi and pierogies. My stomach fell for him months before he had a chance at my heart. 


So, this parts for you Dr. L. I really, really, really don't want to write about this, but I promised you that I would get this all down on paper, so here goes.


The marriage never felt right. Miriam planned a beautiful wedding but it was much more her taste than mine. Her friends loved it; mine kept giving me quizzical looks as they struggled to find the Sarah they knew under layers of white taffeta. There were roses everywhere; I prefer tulips. Don't get me wrong, I was incredibly grateful that mom and dad were so generous with everything; it just didn't really feel like my day. To add insult to injury, my inner voice, which had been conspicuously silent for the four months of the engagement, suddenly picked that day to come out of hibernation. I drank way too much champagne at the reception in a futile attempt to shut her up. 


The honeymoon in Cancun was a nightmare. Ted decided to try every adventure sport they offered. He went hang gliding one day and waterskiing the next. Day three was parasailing and day four, deep sea fishing. Luckily, I had brought a few books and sat by the pool drinking Pina Coladas and getting a great tan. I alternated between feeling intense anger and incredible shame. What kind of bride can't even keep her new husband's attention focused on her during the honeymoon?


By the fifth day, I feared that I had made an awful mistake, but I became determined to try to fix it. Maybe, he was just more adventurous than I was, I rationalized. Maybe, he was acting out because he was nervous about the responsibilities of marriage.  This didn't have to be a disaster, I thought. After all, plenty of people must have experienced disappointing honeymoons. That didn't mean the marriage was a dud. Right? I gave myself a pep talk and went up to the room where Ted was changing into dry clothes after his surfing lesson. When I walked up to the room, I heard voices and figured I was at the wrong door. No, the numbers said 2010. I laughed at myself. Of course it was the right room, Ted must just have the tv on. I put the key card in the door and pulled it open when the green light flashed. There is no polite way to say this, Ted was getting a blow job from the surf instructor. The male surf instructor. 


So thats my sordid story. For a very short, but emotionally devastating period of time, I was Teddy Kaplan's unwitting beard. I think I screamed. When the unfortunate scene is replayed in my nightmares, Teddy's new friend gets so startled when I scream that he bites down and blood spurts out all over. In real life, it was not quite that dramatic. Ted jumped up and said the classic disclaimer: "Its not what you think." And I shooed both of them out of the room after throwing their swim trunks at them. I packed in about 10 minutes and left, and Miriam hired a wonderful divorce attorney. 


That was fourteen years ago and I have dated sporadically since, but I am clearly gun shy. That's the best I can do, Dr. L.  Now, can we move on?"

Chapter Three

Miriam sat outside at a table overlooking the street and glanced at her watch for the third time in as many minutes. No surprise, Rona was late for their weekly lunch date. Rona was always late. Some of her friends considered it part of her charm; she did not want to be controlled by arbitrary rules like time. Miriam, however, did not find it at all charming. In fact, it irritated her more than she cared to admit. Nevertheless, the secret to her 71 year old friendship with Rona was that they celebrated the things they liked about each other, and they agreed to ignore the traits that annoyed them. Somehow, it worked.

Miriam casually waved the waiter away when  he came out to check on her and continued to sip her decaf latte. She scanned the street for signs of Rona's bright yellow Volkswagen Beetle or, as Miriam called it, "her silly little buggie."  Miriam had counseled her against buying it, suggesting that it was the equivalent of a tricycle for grown-ups. To Miriam, it looked like the car you drive until you're grown up enough to drive a real car. To make matters worse, Rona had recently had the logo for her non-profit  painted on the side of her car in large orange letters: NMET (No More Empty Tummies). Just as Miriam was thinking about Rona's painted beetle, a city bus passed by with NMET's new public service campaign emblazoned on its side: BAKERS WHIP HUNGER'S BUTT!!! Miriam laughed and then felt that sense of motherly pride that she often experienced when one of her daughters managed to exceed her expectations of them. Sarah was behind this campaign. She had organized her fellow local bakeshop owners to donate day-old breads and sweets to neighborhood homeless shelters. Not to be outdone, a local chef decided to organize local restauranteurs to do the same. Rona was thrilled. It immediately raised NMET's profile in the city and also insured that many, many more kids would go to bed with a full tummy.

Miriam had always been a bit envious of the relationship between Rona and Sarah. There was always a special connection between them. When Sarah was really little, she couldn't pronounce Rona's name so she called her Rara and the nickname stuck. "I want to go to Rara's house," was one of Sarah's favorite refrains. On her bad days, Miriam sometimes wondered if Sarah would have been better off with a mother like Rona, a free-spirit who let life roll and flow to its own rhythm. Miriam had orchestrated every second of her daughters' lives, and when they were finally independent of her, she struggled to try to control their actions by offering unasked for advice on everything from boyfriends to careers to hairstyles. Just then, a familiar car horn tooted and jolted Miriam from her interior monologue. She looked up to see Rona's sweet face sticking out of the passenger side window of her yellow bug.

"Parking is a nightmare today! I've been circling for ten minutes. Have you been here forever?"

Miriam tried to laugh but her annoyance turned her chuckle into a grunt.  "That's a bit hyperbolic, even for me. I'm just finishing up my 3rd latte."

A red pickup truck pulled up behind Rona's beetle and started honking.
"Yikes, I can't stay here," she said. "I'll head over to the outrageously expensive lot around the corner."
That was a private joke the two women shared. Every week, Miriam parked in the expensive lot while Rona circled the streets looking for one of the rare free spots.

A few minutes later, Rona swept up to Miriam's table and embraced her old friend in a warm side hug. Rona had always been the more affectionate of the women, and Miriam had learned to tolerate Rona's hugs.
"Just got off the phone with Sarah; she needs me to run over after lunch for a quick taste test. I guess that means I'll be skipping dessert."
Miriam felt a brief wave of jealousy that Sarah  had called Rona instead of her, but it passed. "What's she working on?"
"Mini bundt cakes. Sarah thinks thats the new thing; she thinks they will be the new cupcake. She's working on some really cool flavor combos. I'm tickled that she wants to use my raspberry icing recipe."
"She learned everything she knows from you and Granny Sue."
"She learned a few things from you too, Mims."
Miriam shrugged and changed the subject. "Did she say anything about her date last night?"
"Dud."
"Doug?"
"No, Dave, but she'll never see him again. He was another dud."
"She's too picky. They can't all be that bad."
"He told her that he was recovering from a cocaine addiction. He had dedicated himself to making amends for all the wrongs he'd done in his younger years."
"Sounds admirable. He must be incredibly philanthropic."
"That would be one way to make amends. Sarah explained that Dave has a different idea. Because he said so many hurtful things to people while he was under the influence of drugs and alcohol, he's taken a self-imposed vow of silence every day from sun-up to sundown."
"Must have been a quiet date."
"They met at the restaurant at eight. It was already dark."
"Ok, so he's not the one. But what about all the others?"
"The frog to prince ratio is about 1000 to 1, Mims. You've never done this whole
internet dating thing, but I have. Trust me, its brutal."
"But you found Sidney on Jdate."
"I did and I'm grateful for him every day, but you're forgetting that I kissed a lot of frogs first!"
"If I remember correctly, you did a lot more than kiss them."
Rona gave Miriam one of her "drop it now" stares and changed the subject back to Sarah.
"Do you want to come to the tasting with me? The more the merrier!"
"Thanks but I've got a lot of errands to run this afternoon."
"Why are you so busy? You retired six years ago but you seem as busy as you ever were."
"I'm working on some projects."
"That's vague."
"You know me," Miriam said as she finished the last sip of her last latte. "I  like to have my ducks in a row before I start sharing the details."
"I'm sure you'll surprise us all, as always, when you're good and ready."
Miriam stood up and motioned towards the interior of the restaurant. "I'd better head to the bathroom before I burst. Too many lattes."
"I'll order the usual if he comes when you're gone."
And then, in unison, both women said: "No croutons on the Chicken Caesar Salad!

One of the perks of a great friendship is that feeling that someone in the world knows you completely.