We had only met once when they first moved in a few weeks before. I remember that she was pretty, like a newly-wed. I also thought she was kind of gig...ly, like she was a little self-conscious to have recently had her cherry popped by Tom-something. Maybe she was embarrassed because she liked it, and at the good-old Evangelical Church liking it too much was a big no-no—married or not. It didn't matter to me; different strokes, and all that.I was wearing my shades, so I could check her out. " I nodded. "Does that bother you?" she asked.She looked concerned. I was convinced that I had upset hernow.Immediately I said, "No. I mean, that is..." Now I stumbledover my words. I groaned and said. "It can't. I mean, God,I don't know how to say this." She just looked at me withthe same concerned look, though now there were traces ofguilt in her eyes. I threw up my arms. "How can I ask youto apologize for your past?" I said. "It's not like thatwas my first time, either. So I'm not innocent. More

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