It all started with Saturday breakfasts. We have always been busy people, but right from the beginning, Saturday mornings were reserved for catching up. During the broke college years, going out to breakfast was the one restaurant meal we could afford. So, over eggs and waffles we told each other the events in our lives and planned our next shared adventure.
Saturday breakfasts were an absolute with the kids. While we waited to be served, Evans would invariably look at each girl and say, “Tell me a story.” The children would respond with an interesting anecdote from the previous week. They learned the art of good narrative and both grew into outstanding communicators in a wide variety of situations. Their friends didn’t always find the ritual as enjoyable. One of our favorite memories involves hearing the quiet best friend of Laura, our older daughter, tell a wonderful tale of a school mishap the pair had shared. Tricia sometimes struggled to put her very energetic and rich character-filled life into words during the weekend story ritual. She was all smiles after the praise for her marvelous rendition. When it was Laura’s turn to tell us a weekly tale, her brief response was “Tricia dibbed the only good story thing that happened this week.”
Saturday morning is now the time for our collaboration. These days it’s oatmeal instead of biscuits and gravy, but the mental exchange is the same. EBooks are born at the restaurant we’ve been going to for two decades, where we’re treated like family, and the employees still ask about the girls. This is the time when we rearrange plot and create new characters. This is where the world we invent comes alive and where people who have seen us grow gray still wonder what we are laughing about.