My college-age son, Sam, had plenty of friends. They were always traipsing through my house, eating our leftovers, ordering takeout and making noise.

It didn’t bother me. As a single woman, it was nice to have a pack of strong boys who I could get to help me out. Need something moved? The boys could do it. Yard raked? A pizza was plenty of pay. Someone to watch the house while I went on a girls’ vacation with my best friend? Well, Sam and the boys were there — no questions asked.

It was like having many able-bodied young sons at

my disposal and yet not having to house or feed them all full-time.

But I didn’t have a single maternal thought about Harry.

When he walked in, I stopped dead in my tracks. He was six-foot-six and hard to miss with the most adorable smile.... Read More