December 8. Thursday Night.

Hi Journey.

Mattie always makes me realize I'm still a beginner when I think I know it all. But I hung up the phone just now smiling for the first time since I read that crummy news article day before yesterday. Thought we'd end up talking about my assault plans for the B-B campaign.

“Baby steps,” she said. “You'll take that market on just like you've built the business to this point. One little step at a time.” She said it so matter-of-factly, as if it were an event that was predetermined and already in her calendar, like Thanksgiving or something. I felt the small of my back relax into the couch just a bit.

And then we talked about the stars. And stargazing.

There was a night I had long forgotten about. OK, not exactly forgotten, but certainly folded away down deep inside the layers of my mind. It was the night we invited Mattie over for tea.

“Lordy, Crystal , but you three girls were just the cutest,” she said. “Do you remember the little home-made invitation you kids mailed to me. Mailed! I didn't get many of those from your family, let me tell you. I think you or Carm or Case walked over every birthday card or Christmas card your mom ever sent me.”

I remember you gawking up at the stars through that telescope, and you telling me how much each constellation looked like a house or a garage or a big office building. Of course your sister Casey, now she saw things completely differently than you did. She was pretending she was off at the amusement park, with each constellation serving as a different ride. Pegasus was a multiple-looped Roller Coaster as I recall, and Cygnus was a Tilt-A-Whirl. I think you had Gemini pegged as a Tudor house.” She paused, and I could hear her sipping from her Diet Coke.

“Of course, Carm was out there with her eternal entourage of dolls. Only instead of tea, she had all of them slurping down root beer floats. Each of them wore a little old-fashioned nightcap; one with the long tail and the ball on the end. And of course, Carmen wouldn't be content until each of you put one on and had at least a taste of her root beer floats. I still remember how your Dad chuckled when he saw you all clustered around that little tea-time table he'd built.”