The flower lady said, “You’re going to have to get roses at a minimum. You might even need two dozen roses.”“I’m going to include a poem,”...Sean said. “Women love poetry.”“Which poem?” the flower lady asked.“I’m writing it as soon as I get home,” Sean said.The flower lady said, “You might need three dozen roses.”“I’m great poet,” Sean said.“Let me guess ... it is going to start with ... Roses are red.”“How did you know?” Sean asked looking at her in amazement.“It was a lucky guess. You might. "'Uh oh, ' thought E'veen, 'now what?' "Why, thank you, sir ... I miss them both." 'I should, I'm my own grandmother.' That brought on a small fit of the giggles.While the upper crust were RED phone talking, E'veen was wondering how she was going to be her mother. She looked at the desk triangle... 'General Corcoran ... Corcoran?... ' a second glance at the name bar... 'Edwin Corcoran ... EDDIE? Captain Eddie?' It was all she could do to keep from squealing. 'Oh-my-God.' The years swept away. More

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