"There's no time to ride the ferry," I told my daughters. "It's only a day trip. We'll take a boat ride next time. First thing, okay?"

"But, Mom, you promised," Jodi, my eight-year-old daughter whined, as she grabbed my arm that was holding a sightseeing map.

"What do you know about them, squirt?" Vanessa, my twelve-year-old girl snapped. "We were never on a ferry before."

"That's enough, Vanessa," I said,l calmly, as I tried to locate the nearest amusement-park exit, by looking over the map. "Apologize to your sister."

Vanessa rolled her eyes as she stood in place. Then she twisted side to side, with her head down and said, "Okaaay. I'm sorry."

"You're forgiven," Jodi said, giggling.

Then Vanessa bear hugged her.

"Come on, girls," I said, looking around. Then I lowered to my side my hand that was holding the map. "We have to get going," I continued, pointing to an area in the distance. "I think there's an exit over there."

As I encouraged the girl's forward, a breeze picked up and blew the map from my hand. Without hesitation Jodi, playfully, chased after it as it tumbled over the grass.

Vanessa harrumphed rolling her eyes. "You can't take her anywhere."

"Be nice, honey. She's your younger sister."

"I knooow," Vanessa sang, beaming. "Isn't she great!" Then she scurried after Jodi, giggling all the way.

As I watched the girls attempt to catch the map together, I thought of how lucky I was to have them as my children.

"You'll never get it that way," I called after them. They were now skipping and poking at each other with no focus at all on the airborne map.

"We're sorry, Mom," they called back in giddy unison as they playfully ran along.

I smiled. It wasn't that the map had been at all helpful with our sightseeing. It hadn't. That was because every time that I had looked at it, my girls had interrupted me. Kids. Gazing at mine now as they frolicked happily in the grass told me that I didn't, at all, mind paying such attention to them."Still, we had come here with the map and for some reason I felt attached to it. It was as though it were more than just a paper with a diagram on it, showing us a path to particular areas of the park.

Hmm.

"Don't worry. I'll get it!" I shouted, and hurried after the elusive paper guide, doing quite well as a thirty-seven-year-old woman chasing after it without fault.

Just before I could get hold of it, though, a tall man wearing a captain's cap snatched the map from the air.

"I believe this is yours," he said with a wide, dazzling grin, his dime-sized dimples in full bloom.

"Yes," I said, taking the map. "It is." As I folded it and put it into the pocket of my jeans, I felt the man's eyes staring at me. When I looked up he shot them away, then settled them back onto mine. "Thanks for catching the map...'captain.'"

"Captain?" he said, baffled. Then his eyes peered up toward the underside of his cap's visor, and a grand laugh escaped him. "Ohhh, this," he said, removing the cap from his head. "It was a gift."

I put my hand to my mouth, trying to suppress a cackle, but I just couldn't stop myself. Most of his thick, dark hair sat flat and lifeless on his head, as several strands of it crazily blew in the wind.

"Hat hair, huh?" he said, through an amusing expression. "Is it really that bad?"

I tried to keep a straight face while shaking my head, but I burst out laughing instead.

He chuckled along with me, and as he attempted to finger comb life back into his compacted hair, there was something about this man that made him look familiar. But the twinkle in his light, compelling eyes was stalling my brain, and I couldn't put my finger on just where we might have met before.

"Don't worry. I'm the 'queen' of bad hair days," I finally managed to say, as I brought my hilarity under control.

He winked at me and said, "Well, just don't tell my daughter. She'd be crushed if I didn't wear this captain's hat. After all, she encouraged me to buy it this morning, so that I could be the 'king' of such hair days."

My mouth twitched with amusement.

His smile widened in approval. "My wife used to hold back laughter the same way," he said tenderly, then paused before adding, "she passed away a few years ago."

His directness caught me off guard. "Oh. I'm sorry." Then, before I knew it, and without thinking, I said, "I lost my husband, too. I know how tough it is to be a single parent."

"Yeah," he sighed. "The kids really suffer. Now it's just me--the old man at forty--and my eleven-year-old girl, and she loves amusement parks and sightseeing."

I uneasily cleared my throat, self-conscious about his "old" comment, and said, "My children do, too."

"Two daughters, right?"

I eyed him quizzically.

"I'm sorry," he offered. "I'm Dan Clarke. Rachael Karns, right?" he asked, pointing at me.

I nodded, wordless.

"I never forget a face," he said. "I'm Yvonne's dad. Remember? She's over there now, playing with your two girls."

I glanced to the distance, and he was right. Another girl was joyfully running around with both Vanessa and Jodi.

"Dan Clarke?" I asked, turning back to him, my memory fog lifting. "Oh, gosh, forgive me," I continued, slapping the palm of my hand to my forehead. "Of course. Vanessa's old gymnastics' coach. Three years ago, wasn't it?"

As he played with the brim of his hat in his hands he said, "Seems about right, yes. Now we live on the other side of town."

"Oh. Really?" I squinted up at him. "I didn't know that--but hey, Vanessa really learned a lot in your class."

"She was always a talented gymnast," came his reply. "I'm sorry that I had to transfer to another gymnasium, but when Alice got sick, moving my family closer to the specialty hospital was best for her."

"That's important for the greatest immediate care," I said. "In Ken's case, his facility had been nearby."

"Ken was a good man," he stated.

To which I replied, "And Alice was a wonderful woman."

We then shared a moment of silent, personal reflection.

Then I broke our quiet time. "Geez, I can't believe that I didn't recognize you."

"It must've been my...'uniform,'" he teased, raising and lowering his brow in a Groucho-Marx-like humorous way.

I felt my cheeks redden. "Yeah, I guess so."

Another tranquil moment came between us, as we watched our children romp together in the grass.

"That's something you never get tired of," he remarked.

"Yeah. They're really having a ball."

His gaze turned to me. "Your girls would be the apples of a father's eye, Rachael."

Staring back, admiring him, I said, "And your Yvonne would make a mom proud, Dan."

"Hi, Mr. Clarke!" Vanessa shouted wildly waving, breaking Dan and my love stare at one another. "Watch this!" Then both she and Yvonne cartwheeled their way over to us, as Jodi skipped after them.

"That was fantastic, girls!" Dan said, and hi-fived all of them. "I see that you've been practicing, Vanessa."

"The youth center still has great classes," Vanessa informed with glee.

"And let me guess," Dan said, crouching to Jodi, "you're the freelance judge."

"'The judge'!" Jodi stated, with childlike wit and exuberance.

Everybody laughed. We were all getting along so well.

"Hey, Mom. Yvonne said that she and her dad were heading over to the marina. Mr. Clarke rented a boat!"

"Mom said no boat ride," Jodi reiterated.

Dan's brow raised in surprise. Then he passed me a warm, simple grin and my palms started to sweat.

"I...didn't think there'd be time for everything and the ferry," I felt compelled to tell him.

His eyes locked onto mine.

Butterflies fluttered in my stomach.

"Can they come with us, Daddy? Please?" Yvonne asked, clinging to her father's arm, gazing up at him. "They've never gone sailing with a 'captain' before!"

Dan leaned down and kissed Yvonne on the head. "How can you refuse that?" he said, donning his captain's cap, his eye twinkling at me. "This way to the high seas, mates!"

"Can we, Mom?" Vanessa asked anxiously, as she stood on her tiptoes.

I offered her a smile with a depth of happiness. It was one of pure joy that had been missing from my life, since the loss of my husband. Dan had managed to bring that exuberance back into my life again here, and it all meant something special to me.

"I didn't say anything about not riding on a...'private' vessel, Vanessa," I joked, then winked at Dan.

"Hurray!" all the girls exclaimed.

"Lead the way, 'captain,'" I instigated, as Dan took hold of my hand.

As we all made our way toward the marina, my heart fluttered with joy. With my free hand, I patted my pocket that held the sightseeing map. Marveling over at how having chased it in the blowing wind was now charting a future sailing course of happiness for all of us together.

(Click image below to play classic Christopher Cross tune.)