”“I’m Trixie Ann Peters,” she said, hesitantly.“You look busy,” he said. “Going to lunch or too many deadlines?”“Lunch!” she said... suddenly voluble. “I’ve no time for lunch! My boss wants me to summarize all these reports this afternoon, I have to download a bunch of stuff on Australia for my daughter Judith’s school project, just after work I have to attend my son’s PTA meeting and go straight from there to my evening MBA class where I’ve paper due.” She sighed.“Sounds like you need a neck. It was very fortunate that my wife had just left for physio.We arranged to meet tomorrow afternoon. She’d get the motel room, pay with her credit card and I’d reimburse her in cash.I was in the kitchen making my lunch when I saw the letter carrier walking up the path. I opened the inside door and saw through the glass that his hand was brushing away the mosquitoes. I left the screen door shut and shouted, “I’ll open the garage door, come around.”When we met up in the garage, I told him, “Sorry. More

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