I'm not good at guessing games. "I'll never guess, Mom. Who was it?"

"The real estate agent.And guess - wait, I won't make you guess again. Believe it or not, she's already got a buyer for our house."

"Already!You just put the house on the market two days ago. You thought it would take months to sell it. That's great news, Mom!"

"Sort of great.The buyer is desperate. He's in a rush. He's willing to pay what we asked for, which is more than we thought we'd actually get for the house. Here's the catch:

He's in such a big hurry that he wants to move his family in by July fifteenth."

"Mom, no!That's next month. It's impossible. Sell the house to someone else."

"I don't think anyone else will pay us this much money."

"Well, what do we need money for? You're marrying Watson."

"Honey, Watson and I and Watson's ex-wife and your father all have various ideas about how to spend our money. It's quite complicated, but for the time being, let's just say that I don't want Watson to feel obliged to finance four extra college educations. The money from the house, half of which, first of all, is your father's, goes toward college for you and your brothers. So the more wemake, the better."

"Mom, I'm trying as hard as I can to follow all of this, but what exactly are you saying?"

"I'm saying that Watson and I are going to have to get married at the end of the month so we can move into the Brewers' house two weeks later."

I was stunned. I stared at Mom with my mouth hanging open. David Michael came home, let Louie (our collie) in, sat down in Mom's lap, and still I wasopenmouthed and speechless.

The phone rang. Mom answered it. It was a friend of hers. They had a long, chatty conversation which ended with Mom saying, "So the upshot is that the wedding will be in two and a half weeks."