What Are the Odds?
Synchronicities.
I’ve experienced a lot of these over the years, but one stands out in my mind.
Years ago, living in Scottsdale, Arizona, I took an art class—several, really—and one of the instructors, a woman whose name I don’t remember now, befriended me.
One fine morning, when I was in the process of buying a red Mustang, I found out the sales manager was married to someone I knew in RWA (Romance Writers of America), and we chatted while we went over the papers, etc. He mentioned that someone had stopped in that morning casually mentioned knowing Wyatt Earp’s descendent—wait for it—
Wyatt Earp.
Well, you know I’ve always been a western type gal, and while some of you younger folks might need to Google that name, let me just say I was blown away!
I said I wished I could meet Wyatt and, after some errands, drove back to the house.
As I’ve mentioned, this happened a long time ago, and we were still using answering machines, the kind that recorded incoming calls on tape. After a while, I decided to check for messages and found that my art-teacher friend had called.
Her words?
“I’m going to a party at Wyatt Earp’s house on Saturday! Do you want to join me?”
Whoa! Seriously??
Sure enough, my friend and I visited the home of a young man named Wyatt Earp and his pretty wife.
What are the chances??
