WHAT WILL MAKE THIS ALL RIGHT
WE WERE ON our way to brunch at the Hill House. A nice plAce for brunch. It was Victorian, all red velvet and brass inside, and they served a good omelet. It was a perfect October Saturday – cool and crisp, a bright blue sky and maple trees bursting full of orange and red leaves.
On the drive to town Charlotte said, “Rick, stop at the store.”
“Can’t we go after we eat?” I said.
“We’ll be lazy after we eat. I want to buy decorations for the front porch.”
“Charlotte, I’m starving.”
“We need something for the photographer. You just want us and a plain black door in the picture?”
Us and a black door was fine with me, but Charlotte had hired a photographer to come take our picture at one o’clock. It was for our first Christmas card. She’d already been working on a form letter for two weeks, carefully thinking of ways to present our lives to family and friends. She asked me to think of interesting things we’d done that year for her to write about.