The first part was easy. Down Lawyers into Vienna. I knew that much for sure.
But when I turned into the neighborhood it was dark and alien. I recognized the median but not the turnoff. I drove slowly down the suburban lanes, turning every time I thought I'd found the road. But nothing looked familiar.
I realized then that I had never arrived at this house in darkness, only in daylight. In the light, the houses were large, solid, knowable. In the darkness they were too close to discern differences. More cars were parked on the street than I recalled. I drove so slowly I could have been walking, peering into windows with one eye while keeping the other on the road.
At one point I found myself retracing last Saturday's local history tour. And then I laughed out loud. I can't find my friend's house but I can locate the site of an 1862 Civil War encampment.
It was then that I turned toward home. This time I knew the way: right on Lawyers, left on Steeplechase, left on Fox Mill.
When I pulled into our driveway, the porch lights were glowing a warm welcome. My heart leaped at the sight. I parked the car and walked inside.