On our anniversary, as it had done those thirteen years ago, it rained for most of the day. And like July 23, 2000, it also cleared by the time evening arrived. A lovely dinner at our favorite restaurant, Five-O, came with two flutes of celebratory champagne. They were good enough to save our favorite table for us, and the meal was lush and romantic. In fact, it was almost too perfect, and had it ended right there, it would have gone down as one of the all-time best. But #13 would not prove as lucky for us, thanks perhaps in part to the number, but mostly, I’m guessing, to the moon…
