Truth be told, we only went to Bozeman, Montana because my mother heard that Sam Elliot lived on a ranch near the town, and could often be seen wandering the local mercantile. Still reeling high on romance and possibility after both reading The Bridges of Madison County, we set off in the direction of love’s west, knowing full well we would indeed pull open that door handle if given the chance. (If you read the book, or watched the movie screaming for Meryl Streep to open the door, then you know.)

My mother already knew how she could break the ice with Sam Elliot if given the opportunity. She would tell him that while reading the book, he was the only one she pictured, and certainly would have chosen him over Clinton Eastwood any day. We both agreed and grew more and more confident with each passing mile.

It was hard to tell when exactly we entered the town. It did not appear that different from the approaching landscape. I assessed the situation quickly. The Main Street passed quickly, so I turned around and drove it again. There wasn’t Google at the time, so no research had been done. And would we have come had we known? Probably not. I pulled over. Parking was ample. I could feel the excitement slipping from my mother’s face. Something had to be done quickly. We went into the only store that wasn’t hardware related. There was a small rack of dresses. I pulled each one out, like a jester dancing for the queen. And then, I held one that was actually beautiful. I hangered it under my chin. She was smiling, so I went behind the curtained closet and put it on. Black with sublte off white flowers. An empire waist. It fit perfectly. It was no longer us “missing out,” but “they” who had overlooked this beautiful dress.

We found a place to sleep for the night. The next morning we decided (mostly me) to climb the big hill to reach the white rocks that spelled out the name of the town. We got about half way. She stopped, looked around and said, “I can’t even see a mall from here.” We were laughing too hard to finish the climb. We decided if we left immediately, we could be home by bedtime, and be at Ridgedale Mall when it opened the next morning. We could get coffee, while browsing the books at Barnes and Noble. She could look for a new dress. She said the only nature she needed was that of The Banana Republic. Tears of laughter watered the new dream, and we were off again — blooming.