"Great!" she grinned, "Good to go. Don't worry, if you hear me mumbling to myself it's because I'm just counting out steps and how far things are for ...e. I haven't gone nuts or anything." Well, I did call this place the asylum, didn't I."She laughed and nudged herself against me, "Coffee."So that was it. The start. The beginning. God only knows where it would lead us both as we headed into the building.*We sat in a quiet corner of the canteen away from the groups of people who had arrived to. “How do you even know about Grace Kelly?” I asked, shocked. “A little before your time.”“Come on, dad,” she sighed. “I Googled wedding dresses. It’s all over the place.”My daughter then showed me what she was talking about. Even thought the coolly blonde Grace Kelly in no way looked like my dark-haired, dusky Nicky, I quickly saw what got her attention. Skin tight, form-fitting lace, a cummerbund (or whatever a female counterpart is) cinching her waist, a very fetching veil and a train that. More

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