I had gotten out of the shower and was donning a clean, dry rugby shirt to clear my soul of another wasted afternoon swatting at balls. I barely heard...the first asshole speak, as I had been mumbling to myself about that damned 18th fairway with the lake that seems to love to suck in my golf ballsUsually, discretion being the better part of valor, I hit around that stinking lake, even though it almost always costs me a stroke. But today I grew a pair and tried to drive it. I usually put it out. They'd been two years and more getting here. It hadn't been easy. Steve had fought it tooth and nail for a long time. If his firm hadn't effectively forced him to go with Barbara to counseling, they wouldn't have made it.Steve chuckled at the memory. At the last Fourth of July picnic, he and Barbara had come upon Barbara's grandmother sitting at a table with the CEO and CFO of the firm where Steve worked and their wives. Astonished, Steve had said he hadn't even known Lydia was acquainted with. More

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