On July 16th, 2017, minor decisions took on life-altering significance.

Sean –  When will you be home?

Bonny –  I don’t know. The kids are grouchy.

Sean –  Where are you?

Bonny –  Just east of Coeur d’Alene.

Sean –  Ouch. You gonna drive all that way tonight?

Bonny – Guess not. We’ll grab a room.

Sean –  Good idea. Give the kids a hug for me.

Bonny – Will do. See you tomorrow…xoxo

Families were separated.


On Sunday, July 16th, 2017 3:27 PM, Leah Martin <JojoBearsHoney@musica.net> wrote:
Hey JoJo-Babe! Of course I don’t mind if you stay on Vashon another night. We’re loving Victoria BC so much that we’re going to extend our Bachelorette Party and spa it up for another night! Meaning, I’ll come home scrubbed, peeled, soft…and ready for our Wedding Night…(wink, wink)…

Love was lost.


“Screw this!” My new boss said, revving the engine of his sleek, red Porsche. We swung out of the post-festival ferry line and zoomed toward town. “I know you said the ferry line might be long, but this is ridiculous!”
“My sister warned us to leave earlier.” I laughed, my head swimming pleasantly. Whether from spending the afternoon touring island wineries or from the check in my pocket, I couldn’t quite determine.
“So we’re stuck here?” He demanded.
I shrugged. “Or we wait.”
“I hate waiting.” He grumbled.
To be honest, I didn’t care how long the ferry line was. It had been a magical day! Wined and dined by one of the biggest legal firms in Colorado, signed on as a Junior Partner complete with a fat signing bonus, my own company car and a company apartment for the first three months!
As Vashon Town loomed into view, I glanced at the speedometer and wished my new boss would slow down. “It’s an island!” I laughed, the wind grabbing at my words. “What do you expect?”
“Ha!” He said, “And this is exactly why you’ll never catch me living on an island.”
“Don’t get me wrong!” I yelled over the wind. To my relief, he finally found the brake. “I can’t wait to leave.”
“I bet.” He grimaced, maneuvering through Strawberry Festival stragglers toward The Lodges where, with so many already headed home, there was sure to be an opening.
“One more night on The Rock,” I practically sang, “and then, Denver, here I come!”

Careers were obliterated.


The phone rang for a third time, signaling an emergency. Cara sighed, put down her book, and dug through her bag for the beeping device. 

Nurse:  “Sorry to call, but we’ve got a problem with the O2 tanks.”
Cara:  They missed their delivery?!”
Nurse:  “The ferry line was too long. They would have missed their other two stops of the day.”
Cara:  “Keep it quiet, ok? If my Mom finds out, she’ll get everyone freaked out.”
Nurse:  “Don’t I know it!”
Cara:  “So, they’ve rescheduled our delivery for tomorrow?”
Nurse:  “Yes, and we’ve got enough oxygen to last through Thursday, so I told the driver to not worry.”
Cara:  “Just how bad is it on the other side?”
Nurse:  “I guess there were two fender benders and the line was backed up to California Ave. Again.”
Cara:  “No wonder they cancelled. Next year, we’ll place our order on a different weekend. Did Stuart get back with our insulin order yet?”
Nurse:  “No…”
Cara:  “What? Another “bad traffic” excuse?”
Nurse:  “Basically. He decided to stay the night with his sister in West Seattle.”
Cara:  “He better be on the 8:15am ferry…”
Nurse:  “I’m sure he will be.”

Death came sooner.

The Change brought many things, but none so terrible as the concept of consequence.

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