“I’ll put Claire on.”He gave the phone to Claire, who, having heard Ellen’s name, was now standing by him.“Hi Ellen,” she said as cheerful...y as she could, bracing herself for what she knew was coming.“Claire, what’s going on?”“Peter came over and we talked. He’s getting counselling or therapy or something, and he asked me to delay the divorce and give him a chance to show he’s changed.”“Give him a chance? After all he’s done? So you’re going back to all that stress and tension?”“After a month. She was a true native of New Orleans. To be accurate, they were called coon asses. She was dropping quarters in a cigarette vending machine when she tapped me on the shoulder. “Hey, Mister, do you have change for a dollar?”I looked up from the newspaper that I had found on the bench. Her smile was hypnotic, her tee-shirt, damp from sweating in the ninety-eight degree weather. It was obvious that she wore no bra. Her hair was long, thick, and jet black.it was damp with sweat but still, very. More

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