Cousin Paula

It's 2:45 am Thursday September 9th, and I'm thinking I will never get to my cousin Paula's. I somehow recalled all the proper directions from I-5: San Diego Freeway, Ronald Reagan Freeway, Highway 23 south to Avenida de los Arboles all the way to Westpark Blvd. Take the first right, and first right again into the parking lot of the complex. Once again, the night was so very cold on the bike, and it was a relief to finally stop. Paula's complex seemed massive, and despite the roar of the motorbike, we were unable to connect. I finally asked a security guard, who told me to consult with the directory at the entrance, so I did. Suddenly, I see two figures walking towards me - ok, I'm here. Paula's husband Michael is a bit of a night owl, so my late arrival didn't bother him too much. Paula conversely was expecting me at 11 pm, and had called the DMV and highway patrol to see if I had turned up anywhere.
Paula and I became closer when she moved to Vancouver to be an actor. I was apprehensive at first about this relative I'd have to take care of, but she charmed me to the point I told her she could move in with me. She ended up staying for 9 months. An eternal light of sunshine, and such a positive, loving, person Paula is a gem. I wonder if she was happy to return the favour.