I said acappuccino like I knew what that was and he went to the counter andordered for us. While he was standing there waiting for our order Ifound myself watching him, his cool demeanor and strong, healthy body.Was I subconsciously sizing him up as a possible daddy? When he returnedwith our drinks we made small talk, telling each other about ourrespective families and such. I told him again how admirable I thoughthis plans were. He said that it was something he felt like he had to doeven thought meant leaving his family and friends.It dawned on me that perhaps he wasn't the type to get settled and havea family of his own. I pretended to be supportive but inside I would besad to not see him in the future.We didn't speak for a minute or two, we just looked at each other.Nervous, I finally said, "Yum, the coffee is real good, stronger thanI'm used to but it tastes so rich and flavorful."He nodded and smiled and said, "It's hard to compare this to the stuff Iused to drink at home. That. .thought. It was the same thought that had brought me to this warehouse,this crate, and this wardrobe. The thought was saying, I must moveforward. With my heart thumping with both fear and excitement, I movedsome of the dresses aside and climbed in.As I moved through row after row of dresses, I noticed they seemed to begetting bigger. I found it difficult to not stop and admire the dresses,especially when I came across one which I knew, somehow, was mine. Itwas a summery pink eyelet dress with lacy white trim on the hem andshort, poofy sleves, a white peter pan collar and a white satin sashthat was tied in a huge bow in the back. Before I knew it I had gotten out of my grown up clothes (which somehowhad gotten very loose and baggy) and into the... no, MY dress. But Ididn't have much time to enjoy my dress before the voice came again. Butthis time it was a voice I could hear, a voice filled with warmth andstrength."Come along, young lady," the voice said.I turned in the direction the.
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