“Think we’ll find a space?” I asked.

“I’d bet on it,” he said. A few minutes later he pulled into a reserved spot with his name on it, and we took the elevator up to the ground level.

The shopping center had only opened the previous year and was clearly the place to go. It was an upscale, open-air shopping center that had a simulated creek running through it. It occupied six acres in downtown Salt Lake City with a sky bridge over Main Street connecting the two blocks.

We were walking out of Godiva Chocolatier, where we had stopped for chocolate-covered strawberries (which was probably the best breakfast I’d had in years), when Nicholas said, “I need to stop at the Coach store to pick up a bag for one of the partners. Do you mind?”

“Of course not.” I followed him to the shop.

A professional-looking man, bald with a graying goatee, approached Nicholas. “May I help you, sir?”

“I’m looking for a leather carry-on bag.”

“I’ve got just the thing,” said the man. He led us over to a wall display of leather bags. “I’ve got the Thompson foldover tote, that’s been quite popular. And the new Bleecker line. I’ve got the map bag in leather; it comes in two colors, brass and mahogany, and a leather-trimmed webbing strap.”

“No, it looks too much like a man purse,” Nicholas said. “How much is this bag?” he asked, lifting one to examine it more closely.

“That’s the Bleecker flight bag. It’s four hundred and ninety-eight dollars.”

That was almost my entire life savings.

“What colors does it come in?” Nicholas asked.

“Just what you see here, black and brass.”

“I’ll take the brass.”

“Very good choice,” the man said. “Much more masculine design. Do you need anything else?”

“No, that’s all.”

“Give me just a moment and I’ll ring you up.”

“Here’s my card,” Nicholas said, handing him a black credit card. There was a long line of people making purchases.

“That’s a nice bag,” I said.

“It’s for one of my partners,” he said. “He’ll like it. He likes luggage.”

“It’s expensive.”

“Not for him,” he said.

“Or you,” I added. As we waited in line I noticed that there was a Pandora shop across the way. Cathy was a Pandora fanatic, and she always loved getting new charms.

“Nicholas,” I said, “I’m going to go over to the Pandora shop.”

“No problem. I’ll come over after.”

I walked over to the store and browsed the display cases until I found a sterling silver clover with green enamel. It was perfect. Cathy was Irish and proud of it.

“May I help you?” a woman asked. I looked up. The woman was about my age, heavy with gold, permed hair.

“I’d like to purchase that charm right there,” I said, pointing to the piece.