Jorden’s dinner tray had been removed. In an hour the flight would land in Los Angeles. She let her mind wander back to Saturday in Albany—a tight knot formed in her stomach.

***

Previous Year - Saturday afternoon, Albany, May 17, 1969

Jorden was on the go all day. Alex seemed to take pleasure in taking her to special spots around Albany. First, he drove by his grade school, reminiscing about those younger years. She became immersed in his stories, laughing at his antics. At the same time, she couldn’t help but notice the stately homes, almost mansions, surrounding his school. The elementary school she attended was bordered by smaller ranches and two story homes. Her beginning was quite different from his.

When Alex swung by his high school, Jorden wasn’t surprised to see a similar wealthy neighborhood in the vicinity of his school. She could only imagine what his life must have been like. Maybe their children would also grow up in an area like this, but today she was content with just having Alex by her side.

Alex’s last stop of the afternoon was his favorite childhood park. Jorden settled down next to him on one of the park benches, watching ducks swim gracefully by. A trail of ripples reverberated through the water behind their webbed feet. She arched back to look up at the sky as white clouds rolled in. Spring’s fragrances blossomed out of the wild flowers opening along the lakeside.

“Let’s stay here forever,” Jorden said, while in her own fantasy world.

“I wish we could.” Alex bent forward.

Jorden leaned further back, still in her own thoughts, until two young children ran by squealing in delight. Alex sat up, pushed himself off the bench and reached for Jorden’s hand. “We better go. Mom will expect us by five. Remember you’re the honored guest for dinner.”

Jorden didn’t want to leave but took his hand.

When they arrived back at his home, Jorden stepped ahead of Alex as he checked a back tire he thought might be going flat. She skipped up the steps, but stopped when she heard voices from the kitchen. She turned toward the open window to a full view of Mrs. Whelan and another woman deep in conversation. The bushes concealed Jorden, but she could see and hear them clearly.

Riveted to the window, Jorden couldn’t help but listen. She decided it must be Sarah, Margo’s best friend, the one Alex had told her about. It looked like Margo had spent most of the afternoon in the kitchen preparing dinner. Flour covered both Margo and the counter top.

“Why don’t you start a catering business? You’d be good at it,” Sarah remarked, sitting at the kitchen table and crocheting what looked like a baby blanket.

“It’s not that I wouldn’t like to,” Margo replied, continuing to roll out dough for dinner rolls.

“Well, just do it.”