At Thanksgiving they were flying to their hometown, to meet all the folks. Ray knew Frances adored her lovely girls. Long term could she accept Tim as her own? They were late to the airport. “Frances, kids, run. I’ll park the car.” “Yes, Ray!” The girls sprinted ahead. Turning toward the lot, he could see Frances glance down, take Tim’s hand and dash for the door with him.
This would be a good, long trip.