July 9, 1957. Three meer days to get Paul and John to meet. Which would hopefully happen today.
“Can’t believe u talked Dad into lettin’ us do this,” Paul laughed happily. “You’re something special, Gloria.”
I beamed with pleasure. It was the volgende morning, and we were riding on a bus down to Windsor, since Paul was at least able to buy us bus fare if not train tickets. The bus bumped and shuddered along something awful, but I could deal with it, because Paul had his arm around me.
Then Paul looked at me, and door this point, I recognized the curious light in his eyes. “Paul....”...
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