Is that what you do at a pool table? Shoot a game? Walt did his best tolet us win. But it was a challenge. I'm not very good at the game butI'm better...than Marcia. Walt was trying to teach her how to line up ashot. I stood back and watched. They were bent over the table togetherand Walt had his big shaggy head at the back of her neck. His breath orbeard or both must have been tickling her. She was laughing. For amoment or two she must have forgotten how nervous she was or that I waseven there.. I needed some time to sort things out. I was hoping she would simply sleep off her considerable buzz and allow me to re-evaluate the situation. I was not, I told myself as I walked toward the package store, in love with her. Concerned? Certainly. Attracted? Without a doubt. Yet I was, at heart, a realist. I also had to recognize that in her current state of emotional turmoil, Shania was likely to grasp at various straws in an attempt to keep herself afloat in the maelstrom that had assaulted. More

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