We were all pretty quiet, but as rehearsed we each gazed off at one of KC’s paintings that hung on the living room walls.KC’s eyes finally followe... to some of what we were looking at.“WAIT! WHAT’S GOING ON? HOW DID ... YOU MEAN...” She twirled around and looked at me. “YOU ... BOUGHT MY PAINTINGS?” She practically screamed.I smiled. “All of them. I love them.”KC burst into tears. “OH, MARK. I LOVE YOU.” A microsecond later, she was in my arms showering my face with kisses. “How could you? You. Canada isn't all that motor coach friendly, but better than it used to be by a long shot, so I was glad to cross back through customs and continue on US highways.Michigan and Minnesota were just where I'd left them, and we were soon away from the traffic crunch and I was able to relax a bit more, even though I was driving a massive coach. We revisited some of the places I took Cindy and her mom, to see, like the Eighteen-Eighties Town, and Mount Rushmore. I still can't get over naming a. More

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