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me…and sometimes I drink a lot.” His grin got wider and he said, “I’m not drunk right now, though.”
    I realized I had a huge smile on my face. I liked this guy. He was charming. Not strikingly handsome like Preston Christiansen, but personality plus! He had this really nice mouth, very attractive, that looked even better when he smiled, and he had a way about him of self-confidence, combined with self-deprecation that I could tell was somewhat of a shtick. I liked the combo, a little bit conceited and a little bit modest, almost vulnerable.
    “Okay, sure,” I said with a smile.
    It took about four minutes to walk to Luke’s mansion, and during that time, I felt like I was on a first date.
    “So, do you live in the area?” Luke asked.
    “Yes, I live on Spruce.”
    “That’s a nice street.”
    “Yes, it is.”
    “Do you have kids?”
    “I have a daughter. She’s six.”
    “Cute age.”
    “Did you say you have two kids?”
    “Yeah. Nine year-old twin boys.”
    “Wow, that must be a lot.”
    Luke chuckled, “Yeah, they’re a handful. It’s weird being a single dad. I wasn’t a very hands-on father when they were little, but now, with the divorce, I don’t have a choice. And in a way, I’m lucky. I do a lot of things that moms ordinarily do, just because when they’re with me, I have to deal with everything. I can no longer hand them over to their mother when things get rough.”
    I smiled, “Same with me, I guess. I do a lot of things a dad would normally do, since…”
    “What?”
    “Well…” I took a deep breath and then, for the first time in over a year, I actually shared my past with a stranger. “My husband died last year.”
    “Oh my God, really? How?”
    I nodded, “He was in a car accident.”
    “I’m so sorry.”
    “Thanks,” I answered with a sad smile, feeling guilty that I was overjoyed because I’d just actually said it out loud. Telling a person that Sam died was like letting a huge cat out of the bag. It made it real, and it made me feel like I was taking a huge step forward.
    We entered Luke’s big, huge, stone house from the back porch. Once inside, I was standing in his kitchen, looking around in awe, and realizing that he must be a really good trader. “So, was this your house when you were married?”
    Luke chuckled as he rummaged through one of the kitchen drawers, “No. My wife lives about four blocks from here in our original house. I bought this place to be close to my kids.”
    I tried not to gasp, and instead replied casually, “Oh.” Luke wasn’t just a really good trader, I thought to myself. Luke was a really, really, really, really, really good trader. From appearances, he was completely loaded and raking in the cash.
    “Here we go,” said Luke, pulling out gauze bandages, antiseptic cloths, anti-biotic cream and band-aids. He brought them over and put them down on the granite-top kitchen table. Then he pulled out one of the chairs and told me to sit down.
    “So, can I ask you a really personal question?” he asked, sitting in a chair across from me, reaching under my calves, lifting them up till my running shoes meet his knees.
    “I can do it,” I said, horrified once again because I was sure Luke noticed my unshaven legs (of which I was minutes away from shaving for Preston.)
    “No. I take pride in being chivalrous. It builds up my badly bruised ego and makes me feel good about myself.”
    “Okay,” I giggled.
    Luke ripped open an antiseptic cloth packet and began wiping one of my knees.
    “Ouch!” I shouted.
    He chuckled, “Sorry, but I have to clean it.”
    “So, what’s the question?”
    “Well, what do you do after your husband dies? I mean, how the hell do you get through that?”
    “I’m not sure what’s more painful. The antiseptic or having to answer that question.”
    “Then never mind. Don’t answer it. I’m sorry. I don’t want to upset you.”
    “Actually, it’s really strange. I don’t even know you, but I