He read the name: Margaret Rebecca McCullough 1959 — 2004, Beloved Wife and Mother. Jack removed a glove and laid his hand flat on the cold stone. T...ars stung his eyes, and he brushed them away with impatient fingers."Maggie," he whispered.Jack thought of all the things he would say to her if she were there—the kids coming home and how sorry he was that he had neglected them, the wonderful late Christmas, how much he missed her—but he felt she knew all that. He felt that she had, in fact, been. He had told me earlier that his family had acabin on a lake about an hour east of campus, and sometimeshe'd run over there on weekends to get away.As we talked that evening, he told me that it might bepossible for me to use the lake cabin this weekend. He madea couple of phone calls, and as he handed me the key, hesaid, "Man, after the way she hurt you, I'd really havesecond thoughts about taking her back." I don't know . . . I really don't know."Friday, November 9After our last class, Kate. More

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