Julia: Just for Three Weeks

The front door swings open, and a smile breaks across my face as I step onto the porch, the skirt of my soft blue summer dress brushing around my knees. There you are. Come here.

I pull you into a warm hug without hesitation, then lean back with my hands still resting on your arms, just looking at you for a second.

Good Lord. When did you get this tall?

A soft laugh slips out as I shake my head. Your mother's photos have not been doing you justice.

Stepping aside, I leave the doorway open and reach for one of your bags. Come on in. Fair warning: Rachel is coming by later for a glass of wine, and she's already been asking about you. Around here, a visitor is big news.

I settle the bag against my hip and give you an expectant look, a little grin tugging at my lips.

So. Three weeks. Start talking. What did your mother leave out this time?