During the final week of Aria's stay at Umbridge Court, Kip Winters was mysteriously absent from dinner and golf games with Carl. He regaled his captive audience, on the eve of his return, with tales of a letter he had received from his first boss at the FBI, Special Agent Hart. Special Agent Hart was dying of liver cancer. Kip had gone to visit him, one last time, at his home in the booming metropolis of Lynn. Heather and Lonnie were chomping at the bit to experience the marvels of Lynn for themselves, so Kip wholeheartedly enthused that they must all visit Special Agent Hart in the very near future, as Special Agent Hart had longed to meet all of Kip's companions from Umbridge Court and the Grand Hotel.

The original plan was to drive to Lynn in the morning, sight-see during the afternoon, and return to Umbridge Court that night, but even the most experienced Tourist knows that attempting to view every must-see sight in a single day is sheer lunacy. It was then resolved that they must stay overnight in Lynn and return to Umbridge Court the following afternoon.

As it was November, and Lynn was a coastal community, none of the Summer Festivals were taking place, but the Umbridge Courtians were delighted by their stroll amongst the docks, beside the seashore, and throughout the impressive architecture. It seemed that barely a minute had passed before Kip Winters approached them with Special Agent Hart and Mr. Bruno in tow.

Captain Hart was frail, and his skin had lost the majority of its color. He laboriously inched along with a slight limp. His wife was plump, haggard from years of caring for her ornery husband, and had merrily-twinkling eyes. Mr. Bruno was bespectacled, deliciously tan, and shorter than Kip. He had perpetually furrowed brows, a mouth that was set in a grim line, and a black beret balanced on his head at a jaunty angle. His shoulders sagged, and his mahogany eyes had lost their luster.

Mr. Bruno had been married to Special Agent Hart's sister. Following his wife's death, he had moved in with the Harts to help Mrs. Hart care for his brother-in-law. Mr. Bruno was of the mindset that one never gets a second chance at True Love. Aria inwardly dismissed this logic with the snippy prediction that because Mr. Bruno was a few years younger than her, he had plenty of time to find a second Special Someone. Regardless of this difference of opinion, Aria was immediately fond of Mr. Bruno, as Kip had spoken so admirably of them. She forced herself to repress the thought that she would have been even dearer friends with them had she accepted Kip's proposal five years before.

After a brief stop at the Harts' home, Aria was astonished by the level of comfort and gaiety one could achieve in such cramped surroundings. Cardboard boxes used for transporting appliances were larger than this house. Special Agent Hart, though not a reader himself, had crafted magnificent shelves for Mr. Bruno's vast library. Special Agent Hart spent his free time, when he wasn't undergoing chemotherapy, constructing Lego Cities, for the neighborhood children to play with, and hammocks for the senior citizens in the area. Aria's heart swelled with sorrow that such a loving individual as Special Agent Hart had fallen victim to such a ghastly disease.

Aria spent dinner with Mr. Bruno. Though timid at first, Mr. Bruno was charmed into friendliness by Aria's compassion. Eventually, he began to fervently preach about the glory that is poetry. They compared the genius of Dr. Seuss with the majesty and depth of Dickens. Aria was asked to recommend novels that would increase his perpetual state of melancholy, and the visit concluded with Aria contemplating her worthiness to recommend anything to anyone, particularly someone whose intelligence far surpassed her own.

The next morning, Raina and Heather ventured down to the beach, while waiting for the breakfast preparations to be completed. Heather launched into a lengthy discourse about Clarence father's refusal to hand the reigns of his business over to Clarence NOW. Aria indulgently remarked that as soon as Mr. Howard was ready to turn the agency over to his son, Clarence would certainly have the ideal wife by his side to help him run things. Heather philosophically commented that if only Mrs. Ester Rosenburg were among them, Mr. Howard couldn't help but realize that retiring sooner rather than later would benefit all parties involved. Mrs. Ester Rosenburg, Heather declared, had the capacity to convince ANYONE of ANYTHING.

On the steps of the Motel 6 where they had chosen to crash for the night (i.e. Marita was had such overwhelming confidence that the name "Marita Matthews" was world renown, she couldn't be bothered to make a reservation anywhere classier, so every other lodging they tried was booked solid until the middle of next year), a dashing youth paused in his descent to pointedly undress Aria with his eyes. Kip winked seductively in Aria's direction, inclining his head none-too-subtly in a that-bloke-just-invited-you-to-come-hither gesture so reminiscent of Marcus, Aria's eyes shimmered with unshed tears. Kip's jaw dropped at the sheer magnitude of Aria's momentary resemblance to herself at nineteen.

Entering the corridor leading to the "Breakfast Nook," Aria was privileged to plow into the Mysterious Stranger who had ogled her so blatantly on the steps. As a testament to his superior breeding, he accepted all blame for the incident, despite her flurry of protestations that she hadn't been paying attention to where she was going, and soothed her discomfort with a roguish grin, as only Marcus and Kip could have done.

Mid-breakfast, a Stretch-Limousine pulled up alongside the curb in front of the Lobby Entrance; a white-gloved, tuxedo-clad gentlemen pompously assisted Mysterious Stranger from the Steps into the backseat. Eyes twinkling curiously, Aria questioned the clerk at the Front Desk about the identity of Mysterious Stranger from the Steps. He was not Bond… James Bond, as Marcus would have sarcastically supplied, but Rex Evans.

Rex Evans, Mrs. Ester Rosenburg had murderously spat over Aria's final breakfast at the Mini Mansion prior to her stay at Umbridge Court, intended to take the Deanship of Kelly Lynch Preparatory University and Conservatory, or Claremont University, from Mr. Waldon Edwards. He had a vision, Mrs. Ester Rosenburg venomously expounded, of creating a university designed to train 18-22-year old lads about being businessmen, but not just any businessmen; oh no!; they were to become corrupt, powerful businessmen. Mr. Waldon Edwards had vowed that Rex Evans would never lay a finger on any university in which he happened to be Dean. If her father needed her support in his campaign against Rex Evans, Aria had instantly sworn to commit herself to loathing Rex Evens, as well.

Marita exploded over the news that an enemy of her father's would dare show his face in public, without tattooing his name and his crimes upon his forehead. Aria remained mum on the subject; for she had her suspicions that Rex Evans was pursuing such a hostile takeover of the universities her father loved because of the kibosh Mr. Waldon Edwards put on the scandalous relationship he'd had with Elianna several years ago. Elianna may have seemed like Daddy's Little Princess by day, but by night, she was Daddy's Little Whore, engaging in multiple One Night Stands with various guys.

The Harts and Mr. Bruno had insisted upon joining them for a final walking tour of Lynn that afternoon, offering Marita an ample opportunity to unleash a torrent of bitching and moaning about the audacity of Rex Evans upon the Harts, while Aria and Mr. Bruno lagged leisurely behind them. Not only was he interested in poetry, it seemed; as a director, who had lived in LA until the death of his wife, he had developed a love of films. His gut-wrenching rendition of Rose's "I'll never let go, Jack" monologue from Titanic gave her goose bumps. Special Agent Hart sneakily released his wife's hand and skulked backwards a few paces to match strides with the captivated Aria. He slyly whispered into her ear that time, and herself, could work miracles for Mr. Bruno. Aria failed to grasp his meaning.

Lonnie, meanwhile, had adopted the habit of clasping Kip's hand and sailing gracefully from the highest structures she could reach (fences, rooftops, backs of marauding, strategically positioned moose(s)). Without a care in the world, Lonnie hurtled herself from just such a structure and plummeted to earth, with a deafening CRAAAAAAAAAAAAACCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCK, upon the rotting planks of the pier below.

Lonnie's prone, unconscious form was transported to Harts' by the utterly frantic Kip and Carl, whose respective anxiety was compounded beyond measure by the theatrical fainting spells of Heather and Marita. Mr. Bruno comforted Aria with a side-splittingly hilarious re-enactment of how Bridget Jones would behave in a similar situation, as the Harts offered assurances that the Paramedics would be knocking on the door before they knew it. Carl sought Aria's guidance throughout the ordeal. In the midst of his half-baked lunacy, Carl had managed to recall that a framed Medical Degree hung above Aria's bed at the Mini Mansion; however, he failed to remember that the trinket had been a Gag-Gift from Marcus, and she was not qualified to give medical advice.

Lonnie was gingerly deposited on the sofa in the Sitting Room, as Paramedics surged into the sardine-can-sized dwelling. Aria was terrified that such a mass of people one pea-sized room would surely suck up all the oxygen, causing them all to suffocate. Fortunately, Raina's framed Medical Degree did not symbolize her expertise in such areas as suffocation. Lonnie was diligently examined and pronounced, much to the relief of all who had witnessed the catastrophic event, in perfect health (other than her self-inflicted concussion), and a trip to the hospital for further analysis was deemed unnecessary, as long as she had plenty of rest, and was moved as little as possible.

In a tempest of agitation and frustration, Kip immediately volunteered to inform the Matthews Family of Lonnie's condition, via a rental car from the Avis located kitty-corner to the Motel 6. Everyone else would return to Umbridge Court in Carl's BMW. Aria would stay in Lynn to help (with the supervision of Mrs. Hart). Kip positively beamed as he described Aria's innate talent for nurturing, but was rudely jolted from this reverie by Marita's caterwauling that the burden of nursemaid should be placed squarely upon her shoulders. Although she would miss her husband dreadfully, what was Aria to anyone but a massive pain in the ass? Surely, Lonnie would heal instantly under her care!

From the Pen of Aria to the Eyes of Marcus:

My Dearest Marcus,

What I wouldn't give to lounge with you amongst the branches of our tree, to dangle my feet into the pristine waters of the Kelly Lynch Preparatory University and Conservatory Fountain (our special place), to sell un-sweetened lemonade to unsuspecting passersby, to support your campaign to protest the impending retirement of the most adored Lunch Lady. Kip Winters has spoken to me DIRECTLY once and praised me once since my last postcard. Five years has altered nothing between us, so take your "He still wants you," shtick and bloody shove it!

As you had foreseen, Lonnie Matthews FINALLY proved herself to be one of the duller crayons in the box. She had the gall to give herself a concussion the other day, and Kip Winters recruited me to nurse her back to health. Then, Kip Winters requested MY opinion about his scheme for me to wait in the car with Heather, while he broke the news to Mr. and Mrs. Matthews. Heather, you see, is in such a tizzy, that she is unable to so much as look at Lonnie without experiencing heart palpations and anxiety attacks of the most severe nature.

All my love,

Aria Edwards

P.S. I realize that instead of shoving your theories about Kip Winters and me, you are probably prancing about my room, bellowing them at the top of your lungs. I beg you to desist at once. The urgency of Kip Winters' tone, and the tears cascading down his cheeks whenever Lonnie is mentioned, is proof enough to whom his heart belongs.

P.P.S. Since coming to Lynn I have enjoyed romantic entanglements with two men besides Kip Winters. Mr. Bruno amuses me immensely with his recitations of scenes from movies, and Rex Evans (my father's archnemesis) propositioned me with his eyes. As you can tell, my opportunities for turning down proposals are endless.