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The slickers helped, but a lot of wetness got all over us.The whole boat got soaked. Fortunately it was fresh water, so there wasn't a problem with going around coated with salt. Lou Ann was enthralled by the massive amount of water going over the falls, and how much larger it looked when you saw it from below. We tried to keep her dry, but that just doesn't work on the Maid-of-the-Mist.I bribed the captain four-hundred dollars to keep us out a little later, since it was his last tour of the day, and we saw the sunset playing off the falls, along with the many rainbows created by the mist. It was just what the day needed. Lou Ann was so wound up she got her mom's phone and called home to tell her grandparents all about it.We listened to her excitedly telling about the boat ride, and all the people she met onboard. Hearing about Niagara Falls through the eyes of Lou Ann, gave me an entirely different perspective on the marvel of the falls, and how unique it was. By the time we got her. . without strings or limits.Whenever Susan and I had troubles, Rachael always had a word of encouragement and time to listen to my gripes. And I always listened to her complaints about the jerk she'd married—the one time she didn't listen to me—Ed McCarthy. (Somehow, she'd really loved the man, even though he did everything he could to kill that love—and finally succeeded.) Our kids called the other 'aunt' and 'uncle', and we looked on them as 'family'.I could sense that this visit was different. She'd arrived on the eve of a big holiday weekend, without calling first. That wasn't like her. And she had an air of having arrived, when they came in the house.After a big hug—always a pleasure with Rachael—I asked, too brightly, "How long can you guys stay?"Wailing, "Oh, Al!" she collapsed into my arms and wept bitterly on my shoulder. Finally, she straightened up, wiped her eyes and said quietly, "Thanks, Al. I really needed that. To answer your question: We've moved in, if you'll have.
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When Anne threw me out, I had nowhere else to go. The house, where we lived, had been hers before we married. Even though I paid for a remodeling job, it stayed hers after the divorce. In exchange for my repairs to her house, she didn’t challenge the ownership of my dad’s cabin. I probably got the better deal, since I got away from both Anne and her daughter. I made the move the next day. It was only on mornings when the temperature was well below zero that I regretted the move. Since I lived in North Carolina, there weren’t too awfully many of them. I noticed again the funky smell of the cabin. It happened more on damp days than cold ones, but it was there that morning. The cabin had started life as a tobacco barn. The logs had retained the sweet smell of every leaf of tobacco which had been cured in it. I had seen other barns and knew mine was large as tobacco barns go. At twenty-four by twenty, it was more the size of a double garage. My dad had made only a few changes. He had.

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