What’s wrong with me? I’m a married woman, and I’m acting as if this is a date not and not an interview.He walked to the front and I turned and ...atched as he walked away. He definitely had gotten better with age and I was even more nervous about working for him and seeing him every day.“Looks like you had a long day,” he said returning with not only our drinks but a piece of peanut-butter pie.“You have no idea.” I mumbled sipping at the drink.“Here, have some,” he said pushing the plate towards. Several hours passed. Waking, eyes shut tight, I stretch, elongating my form, toes reaching down, arms high over my head. A complete, full body stretch. My mind is flooded, thoughts racing through my head. My eyes fly open, I search the room. Dad's room! His bed! I was not dreaming. I reached to his pillow, pulling it to my nose. Inhaling, I smell my father. Rolling over, I glance around the bedroom, then out the door. Dad's nowhere to be found. A note, left on his side of the bed, instructs me. More

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