I went downstairs,moving slowly, not trusting myself. I poured myself a lemonadeand took it out to the front porch with my ipod and slowlycalmed down ...hile I sipped my lemonade and listened to somequiet music.About twenty minutes later, I heard Claire and Betsy insidethe house chatting and laughing again and, out of the cornerof my eye I saw Betsy give Claire a lingering kiss in the doorway.Then Betsy stepped outside and saw me on the porch and froze.Claire came out behind her and, without. “I’m sorry, my name is Riley. What may I call you, sir?” “You can call me Bob,” the man said matter of factly, then added, “Just don’t call me late for dinner.” Oh, that joke, she thought. Wow, old guys are just never very cool, are they? As they stepped up onto the front porch, Riley began to get excited at the thought of warm clothes and a hot meal. The house was decorated just as she’d expect it to be, with post-war kitsch and homemade doilies displayed on outdated oak furniture. As she. More

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