Before I could even catch my breath, she was talking to me non-stop like someone I’d known for years. I couldn’t help but feel comfortable. This was the most astounding thing I’d ever experienced. I loved her. In one half-hour, she knocked my fears about Tony’s parents from my head. She could have been a Back Streets “Mama” as easily as she was the grand dame of this incredible house.
I met his dad at dinner. He was much like Tony, only older and probably more set in his ways. But he was still handsome, genuine, and very much like his son, curiously charming.
“The next time we come here, we’ll have the house to ourselves,” Tony told me as we checked into his enormous bedroom, “they’ll be at their house in England.” I was so busy getting used to more thick carpet, heavy drapes, and the bi
