“Grayson, no fighting in school,” Melody said,
“O,K, Ma, Bye, Grandpa.”
“Bye, sweet boy,” I said, as Grayson ran into the yard of the ABC pre-school.
“I have exactly ten minutes to make it to my meeting,” Melody said, as we circled the downtown block twice looking for a parking space.
“This is the most important meeting of my life,” she told me. “I’m meeting with a representative of a company in the U.S. that does themed weddings. If I can talk her into a Belizean-themed package I will do more wedding business than I ever dreamed of.”
By the third time around the block Melody was getting desperate.
“What are you mumbling about?” I asked.
“Never you mind. We have three minutes so keep looking.”
That’s when I realized she was praying.
“Dear God,” she said, softly. “Please help me find a parking space.”
Then she said, “Please. One little parking space for a golf cart is all I’m asking. I promise to quit swearing if you help me.”
We passed one space that was only wide enough for a scooter but Melody didn’t say one swear word.
“I’ll be nicer to people that I don’t like,” she mumbled. “I’ll let Glenn win some arguments. No! I won’t argue with Glenn at all.”
The street was still filled with vehicles from end to end.
Melody said, “If you help me get a parking place I promise to quit having drinks . . . .”
A golf cart backed out of a space in front of us and Melody immediately whipped her cart into the vacant spot.
She said, “Never mind, God. I found one.”
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