Mama Felicity 1844-332-2639 Ext 270
Every Labor Day, John and I host the neighborhood BBQ. This year, the pool was pristine and the grill was hot. I was putting out the last of the bits for the salad buffet when a stranger caught my eye. John was welcoming him through the back gate.
Now, I know everyone in the neighborhood, that’s what good Southern wives do, but this man had escaped me. “Who’s that?” I elbowed Sharon. She looked over, then swooned a little and said, “Oh, that’s Nick. He just moved in across the street. Isn’t he hunky?”