Ask me why I fell in love with Clay Palmer and I’ll tell you. It was because he was the exact opposite of my father. The first time I saw him, I noticed the serious expression tacked onto his face. Right away I suspected he was a settled-down man, a man who’d be content to spend the whole of his life in one place. When he proposed and said we’d buy a house nine short blocks from where he’d lived as a boy, that was proof positive.

After living with the man almost thirty years I know his heart as well as I know my own, and I can assure you, Clay doesn’t want to move. He’s just feeling the dreariness of this winter weather. The truth is he’s as happy in this house as I am. Why would anyone leave a place where they’ve got everything a person could wish for?

It’s that job. I’m glad he’s going to retire. Once he’s out of the bank he’ll have a new outlook on life. He imagines he’ll be bored, but he won’t. Lord knows there are plenty of things that need fixing around here, and he’s already got that nice little workshop in the basement.

So, we’ll have less spending money. That’s okay. I can stretch a dollar. When we were first married he was only making half of what he makes now and even with raising two kids, we got along just fine. We did it then and we can do it again. As far as I’m concerned, hamburger’s the same as steak. It’s just ground-up.