“We’ve rented a room in Charlotte for tomorrow night.” The text came in from Michael a few weeks later.
I smiled, pleased that I’d get to see them before they left. The weeks up to this trip had been busy ones. They’d organized a lot of things that one of the orphanages over there needed and were taking them over with them. That had involved a lot of stuff to do with customs procedures, last-minute checks, and a lot of phone calls.
Apparently, they went to the same town in Spain every year, a place their mother loved and had been going there their entire lives. It was nice, I thought, that they were able to do that. They’d become friends with the locals over the years and when they found out a local orphanage had been decimated by a freak flood; they went to work organizing aid for them
