"Hi, Carlie," I said, trying NOT to sound like the cat that ate the canary."Hello, Dave. I know, you know..."I play stupid. "What is it you know..." Y...ur little friend..." My Carlita..." Oh, she's YOUR Carlita now?" Yes, I can say that. We've decided to get married, since she's eighteen, you know..." I saw the passport. Can you even DO that?" We're sure going to find out. Either we do it here or I have to buy tickets to Guatemala, but we ARE getting married." I glanced at Carlita. Happy. And. After an hour of tears, I realize this self pity can’t last. It’s pointless, a waste of time. I have to focus on something. I step into the shower, as hot as I can stand it, and focus on the feel of the water. Warming, soothing, cleansing. I feel scrubbed clean when I emerge, wearing a robe, towel-drying my hair, ready for a new start. Just then, I hear a soft knock on the door. I peer out the peephole. Rick. Damn. I don’t want to see him. But my heart pounding in my chest says I’m a liar, and. More

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