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" Doug planned a whole day for just the two of us on Sunday. We left early and drove about a hundred miles outside of Chicago to his friend Susan and Graham&amp;#039;s farmhouse to have brunch with them. They live in a lovely little town: an adorable tree-lined main street, beautiful fruit and vegetable stands once we got further out into the country, land as far as the eye could see. I almost felt like I was on a movie set, and someone was going to scream: &amp;quot;Cue the deer!&amp;quot; I think I was having a particularly strong reaction because I&amp;#039;d always fantasized about living in a small town, out on a farm. A cocktail every day at sundown, and a greenhouse to boot.  This town fit the bill perfectly.  Driving up to their house was incredible \u2014 especially to find the two of them sitting outside on the steps leading up to their wraparound porch.  We ate outside. They served eggs and turkey bacon, great coffee, and maybe the most delicious raspberry pancakes I have ever had. And they were incredibly lovely people. Susan, who taught elementary school, was about fifteen weeks pregnant with twins, and Graham, a journalist like Doug, seemed to absolutely adore her. He was totally doting the entire morning, and it was very sweet to be around.  &amp;quot;It seems amazing here,&amp;quot; I told Susan, as I helped her with the dishes.  &amp;quot;We have never been happier,&amp;quot; she smiled. &amp;quot;It&amp;#039;s a quieter life, which, after the last few years, is exactly what we needed.&amp;quot;  Graham had been over in Africa with Doug. That was how they met. But, like Doug, he was big and strong \u2014 and it made me wonder a little if he had something else in common with Doug. Like being in the CIA.  When we were back in the car, and Susan and Graham had waved good-bye to us, I turned toward Doug and asked him about it.  &amp;quot;Liz, you&amp;#039;re being silly,&amp;quot; he said, pulling away from the house. &amp;quot;Do we have to talk about this?&amp;quot;  &amp;quot;I&amp;#039;m just interested.&amp;quot;  &amp;quot;I can see that.&amp;quot;  He looked annoyed, staring out the windshield as we continued driving, but I didn&amp;#039;t care. I waited for an answer.  &amp;quot;Liz, Graham&amp;#039;s my friend from Africa. He&amp;#039;s a great friend and a really great guy. He writes for the Times and several other major newspapers. Okay? Are we done talking about it?&amp;quot;  &amp;quot;That&amp;#039;s not an answer,&amp;quot; I said. &amp;quot;Or, at least, I&amp;#039;m not sure it&amp;#039;s a complete one. I want a complete one. I want to hear you say yes or no.&amp;quot;  We were driving back through the town, now, but instead of heading back in the direction of Chicago, Doug took a left, and we were going deeper into the hills.  &amp;quot;I don&amp;#039;t want to talk about it right now,&amp;quot; he said. &amp;quot;But, if you really want to know, then no, he really is just a journalist. He&amp;#039;s a good journalist, and they are really nice people, who I thought you&amp;#039;d get along with.&amp;quot;  I nodded. I had. I did. &amp;quot;That was all you had to say. What was the big deal? I can&amp;#039;t ask questions?&amp;quot;  &amp;quot;You can.&amp;quot; Then he reached over and put his hand on my thigh. &amp;quot;I&amp;#039;m sorry.&amp;quot;  I watched him, and could tell he was.  &amp;quot;I&amp;#039;m sorry I was quick with you about it, but I have a surprise for you, a big surprise, and it&amp;#039;s making me a little nervous. And I don&amp;#039;t want anything ruining it.&amp;quot;  &amp;quot;A surprise?&amp;quot;  He squeezed my leg as he pulled down a long driveway through a canopy of the most beautiful trees I had ever seen, until we were in front of another farmhouse. This one was white with black shutters, the loveliest porch I had ever seen. I could see two barns out in the distance, and I could make out a pond! A pond with a small pond house in front of it.  &amp;quot;My gosh! This place is incredible.&amp;quot;  &amp;quot;You think so?&amp;quot; he was smiling broadly.  &amp;quot;Who lives here?&amp;quot;  &amp;quot;We do. As of January 1st.&amp;quot;  &amp;quot;What? Excuse me?&amp;quot;  &amp;quot;I got it for us as a place to go on the weekends. Or, as our schedule allows, maybe someday in a more full-time capacity. You, me, Jackson \u2014 if Michelle lets him stay for the rest of the school year, the way we are hoping. I thought it would be great for him. For all of us.&amp;quot;  I was truly speechless, looking out around me.  &amp;quot;I know this has always been your dream. With everything&amp;#039;s that happened to you in the last year, I called up Graham and asked him to help me find a perfect place. I wanted to make one of your dreams come true.&amp;quot;  &amp;quot;And you bought it?&amp;quot;  &amp;quot;I rented it for a year with the option to buy after that. I would have bought it now, but I thought that might stress you out, and that is the last thing I want. I only want to make things better, Liz. For you to feel safe again.&amp;quot;  This truly was my idea of heaven. My heart was racing just looking at it.  &amp;quot;I can&amp;#039;t believe you did this for me.&amp;quot;  &amp;quot;I did it for both of us. For a fresh start.&amp;quot; He took the key out of his pocket and handed it to me. &amp;quot;We&amp;#039;ll have to knock today, because the owners are still here. But would you like to take a look around?&amp;quot;  I turned and looked at Doug, and bit on my lip so as not to cry. He looked like the Doug I had known at seventeen, the one who always tried to make me happy. I leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. &amp;quot;Thank you,&amp;quot; I said.  &amp;quot;You&amp;#039;re welcome. Now, would you like to take that look around or what?&amp;quot; he said, joking.  He opened the car door.  &amp;quot;I would,&amp;quot; I said. "^^<http://www.w3.org/2001/XMLSchema#string>
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