Before summer's end, I was able to realize a dream I had maintained since I was 13 years old; Dad submitted to my desire to purchase a set of china, regardless of the fact that it would be in the attic for at least several years. I was elated, after five years. I still liked the same pattern, and I simply wanted to buy the pieces while the pattern was readily available. The rich, coffee hued plates bordered with muted gold vines would one day bring further enjoyment to my dinner table. I wondered when I would first use them. . . in an apartment, to mark the beginning of a new job?. . . or in a house, the first meal prepared for a husband. . . Mom and I carefully packed the dishes in their boxes and I watched as Dad pushed them, one by one, into the depths of the attic. How could such a plan be a mistake?. Aug. 22, 1980... Rehearsal dinner with Steve. Mary, one of my first playmates, was about to be married. It was no shock, she had dated the same young man for eight years. The only comment that seemed to abound concerning the event was, "It's about time!" I had no qualms toward the success of the marriage, for if they had not seen the myriad facets of each other's personalities by now, they were either blind, deaf and stupid, or extremely keen actors. Personally, I believed in them entirely. I asked Steve to accompany me to the rehearsal dinner, and to my delight, he accepted the invitation without hesitation. He was my first choice and, in my opinion, best suited for the occasion. Not only was he personable and well-dressed but he knew the bride as well as I did and would have no difficulty engaging in conversation with the other guests. Aug. 23, 1980... Mary's wedding reception 'til 12:00. It was a lovely summer evening, and as one of three bridesmaids, I felt elegant strolling down the aisle in my peach gown and picture hat. The wedding progressed smoothly, with no disruptive children or sideshows, thus ending a veritable storybook romance in the typical style. Once the ceremony was over, several neighbors and friends remarked that, dressed as I was, I looked like a bride; indeed, after such processions, I could not deny that I heard my own imaginary wedding bells. Situations like these were a jaunt from the ordinary, and indulging in a bit of personal fantasy seemed a natural benefit. At the reception Steve and I enjoyed ourselves on a grand scale. The food and drink and dancing were merriment of the finest proportion, and we hovered at each other's side throughout the night. Those who did not know us thought we were married, and although I over-step the bounds of modesty, I do believe we made a fine pair. After the celebration, I held more memories to carefully tuck away. Mary would not be living on 7th Avenue any more. I suddenly felt a million miles from trikes and trinkets and Barbie dolls. PAGE 175 Chapter 23 Black Hawk College