It was Catalina;A coy little vixen;A saucy young Latina.She knew how to dance;In ways considered dirty;She knew when she drank;She became quite flirty...When she pictured the future;She saw a different life.She imagined being a mother;She dreamed of being a wife.A wife need a husband;With whom to wed;He had a be a provider;Also, good in bed.As for a provider;She doubted Trent was right.As for a lover;He might do tonight.When she thought of Sarah;Her heart would no longer sting;She would still. The weight-conscious Mrs. Weinstein ordered a salad, but she told us the fettuccini Alfredo was good, so we both ordered it.During the meal, Mrs. Weinstein asked about my family. I explained I was living with my brother and his wife. Her pinched face and large brown eyes looked sadly back at me."Oh, are you parents dead, then?" No, they're not dead."She nodded. "I see. Divorced, then." No, actually, Mrs. Weinstein," I began, and squirmed in my seat. "Actually, they're in the process of winding. More

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