Rarely did I use the parking tag for the school lot, but today it was a blessing. During the drive, I learned that Andrea's uncle had found a small one-bedroom apartment in a senior citizen complex. His age was a match to the criteria, even though he still worked full time. He would be on the ground floor facing the secured parking lot. Each ground floor apartment had a fenced patio with a small gate, while the other four floors had their private balcony. The patios and balconies each had a lockable glass door and a screen door. He would have a place to sit outside. I had, what I thought would be a great idea. I would get a couple of lawn chair for patio use.. Andrea said that her uncle would get the dishes, the pots and pans, a toaster oven, a toaster, an electric fry pan and some baking dishes.

We got to the school before the rest of the students, so we had time as planned for coffee and bagels. Andrea was happy talking about her plans to move back home. Then the look of puzzlement came over her face.

"I just realized something important. What am I going to tell my dad? What do I tell my brothers? I can't drag mom into this, that would not be fair. Oh, God, what am I going to do?" She burst into tears.

"It's simple just tell the men that it didn't work out, so you are home. Nothing more. I am sure your mom will back you up. She can say you called and explained, and if you called her when we get home she won't be lying. Just call her and tell her what you are going to say, and everything will be fine."

She brushed away the tears, "When I get back to school, I have to run to the bathroom and fix my eyes." As she smiled.

Today, we talked about different sensations we felt and tried very hard to match the nerve involved. Tomorrow, we would start putting the systems together. Determining how nerves influenced our movements, our digestion, our heart beat, in fact our very being. But for now, we had the challenge of the nerves.

We made it through the day, everyone was eager for tomorrow and Andrea and I were ready to shop.

When we got to the car, I asked if she would mind a quick stop at Wal-Mart and she was fine with the idea. We pulled into the parking lot and I explained that I was going to get her uncle two lawn chairs. Of course, she balked at the idea, so I told her all the card would say would be 'from a friend of Andrea'. We agreed to meet at the cash registers.

I headed to the lawn and garden area, which at this time of the year, was barely stocked but I did find something suitable. They also had a couple of cushions that were what I considered to be 'masculine colors'. I also picked up the items she would need to make stew and the rolls for Saturday and for cookies and hot chocolate, non-alcoholic, of course. She could teach her mom about using a slow cooker and then explain the idea to her uncle before she gave him his cooker.

She really was a charming, caring person. She just hit a rough patch and she didn't know how to handle it. She truly liked her uncle, just not his sense of attention.

I went to the cash register area to wait for her. It was several minutes before she showed up. She had gone to the small appliance area to check out what was available. She was delighted to find that they had the same brand I had, and in three different sizes. She got the larger one for her mother and the smallest one for her uncle. She had also dropped by the card department to get a thank you card for her mother and welcome to your new home card for her uncle. After paying for our purchases, we packed our items in the car.

As we climbed in I suggested supper out and that the homemade chicken pot pies would be okay for tomorrow night. She readily agreed and asked if we could go back to the Cracker Barrel. I smiled and nodded and turned the car in that direction.

On the way, she texted her mother that she would be calling her before bed, but that she was fine, she just needed to talk to her.

We arrived, and both chose something different from the first time. As with that time, I let her taste what I had. When we were done, I once again got two candy sticks for her brothers.

When we got home, I stored the meat in the fridge and decided to read for a while before bed. She went to her room to study and to call her Mom. I simply told her I would see her in the morning.

"Hi Mom, I thought I had better call before I started studying. Everything is fine. Mrs. Armstrong suggested I call and explain what I am going to tell Dad and the boys. This was all you have to say is that I called and explained, so you won't be lying." She chuckled before continuing.

"I am just going to say it didn't work out and leave it at that. But I do need you do something for me. I already have a thank you card for Mrs. Armstrong, but could you get a bottle of her favorite brandy, she puts it in her hot chocolate, remember how good that was? I thought you could get it on the way home tomorrow. She is going to bring me over Saturday morning with my things, so I will tell her she needs to come up to say hi to you. I can pay you for it after she leaves."

"Sweetheart, you don't have to pay me, it will be my treat for you to give to her. After all, she did help us both out, when she didn't have to. I like her."

"Thanks mom."

"Not a problem. Your bedroom stuff will be here real early, it will be the first delivery, so I am guessing about 730 am. I plan to clean your room Friday night, when your father is helping with the move. I picked up some curtains and a bedspread on my way home last night. So once your furniture gets here we can set up your room. Your dad is going over Saturday to help organize things, so it's just us girls. Now get some sleep. See you Saturday."

"Night, Mom."

She snuggled into bed, reading until sleep was ready to over-take her, as it had already claimed Mrs. Armstrong.