He always called me Jon, no matter how many times I told him my name is Jonathon. I hated being called Jon. I liked my name; I saw no reason to shorte... it. Instead of having the brass to correct him, I lied and said the report was coming along just fine. When I reached my cubical, I took a deep breath, and forced myself to start working on it. My fingers began to type—the weekend was over.I didn't get far when my cell rang. I fished it out of my pocket, and saw that it was my wife, Monica,. "She took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. "OK. I'll be out in a few minutes."I opened the front door and motioned for John to come in. He was out of the car and on his way up the path almost immediately."Good morning, John." Well, at least you're talking to me." I think Jill will talk to you, too. Or at least she'll let you say your piece." How is she?"I guided him into the kitchen and poured us both some coffee and moved him over to the table."She's better than she was last night.. More

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