Marcia Bobb

The gentleman with Marcia is George.  She chose her law schools with him in mind.

A year ago it all sounded romantic:  an August wedding, a short but blissful honeymoon, and the support of an already-a-lawyer husband as she starts law school.  Now it all sounds stressful: are the invitations pretty enough, can I find eight sets of matching jewlery for my bridesmaids, does my cake taste good enough?  And why did I decide this was a good thing to do just before I start law school?

In the meantime, those pesky little letters keep popping up in the mail.  One says, "Come to our school; we'll give you money."  Another mentions the dreaded wait list;  a third offers a seat, but no financial incentives. Where will it all settle out?  I don't dare risk jinxing it by mentioning a school this soon.