That Porch Is A Happy-looking Place, And

We'll Have A 'rest Of Our Lives' Now.

I Wished I'd Known Weeks Ago That We Didn't Have To Be Chaperoned. I Remembered My Old Daydreams: The Prince And I, Alone Together, Cuddling And Whispering... I Probably Would Have Wised Up And Brocken The Engagement Sooner.

The Deadlines Are Much, Much Longer With Books. When I Was A Reporter, A Lot Of Times I'd Come In At 8:30 A.m., Get An Assignment Right Away, Interview Somebody, Turn The Story In By 9:30, And Have The Finished Story In The Paper That Landed On My Desk By Noon.

Unlike My Mother, My Father Does Not Cry Quietly. His Wails Roll Out Like A Wave Of Pain, And I Scramble To Roll Up My Window. My Mother Cannot Hear That. I Cannot Bear To Hear It Myself. I Am Not Used To My Father's Crying. I've Had No Time To Harden My Heart Against Him.

Amazing, Yetta Thought. Back Home I Couldn't Have Chosen My Own Husband. And Here I'm Thinking About Choosing Presidents, Governors, Mayors, Laws.