Although she had changed much, the voice was unmistakable, as were those blue eyes. ‘Of course, Mrs Evans,’ I replied. ‘I’m Connie, Dan, pleas...?’ ‘Sure, Connie, please forgive an irascible old man.’ ‘A gentleman, Dan,’ she smiled beautifully. Connie sat, depositing her bags on the floor. ‘We were best friends once… I miss Mary.’ I started at the mention of my late wife. Even after five years the void was manifest. ‘You knew Mary?’ ‘The Baptist Church Wednesday Club. We chatted, mostly about. Rag in hand from the glove box, the passenger leans over, swipes a couple wipes back and forth clearing the glass enough for the driver to see the obscured road from the dark cab as the truck makes its casual entry across the drive onto the wet pavement of the country back road. ?How many?... How old?? ?Half dozen? All in their late teens, maybe one or two at the most? Twenty.? The passenger calmly answers the driver while wiping his arms, face, finally his hands with the. More

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