Of course, it was an incredibly shitty day at work. Worse, traffic sucked on the way home. Fridays are always the ugliest where we live. It was after seven o’clock before I even pulled into the garage.I had to step over a huge, unfamiliar duffle bag packed with dirty clothes laying in the laundry room. The spiffy new washing machine was already going. I made the turn into the kitchen and was happy and sad at the same time.Happy because our old next-door neighbor’s daughter was chatting with my wife. Dylan had always been a nice girl. Merry and I were the older brother and sister she never had. She used to hang out at our house all the time. We’d even given her a key.Of course, Dylan had turned into a drop-dead hottie as she grew up too. The friendly and nosy ten year-old I’d met developed into a nubile young heartstopper before she moved away.I looked at Dylan standing behind the counter next to my wife. Her dark blonde hair, big green eyes, and fit little tennis player’s body were. The fall was well advanced; the forecasters said there would be frost in the hill country over the weekend. It was cool right now, but not terribly so. He could hear Barbara humming happily in the kitchen behind him. She'd decided a glass of hot chocolate would be just the thing to end the day with.They'd been two years and more getting here. It hadn't been easy. Steve had fought it tooth and nail for a long time. If his firm hadn't effectively forced him to go with Barbara to counseling, they wouldn't have made it.Steve chuckled at the memory. At the last Fourth of July picnic, he and Barbara had come upon Barbara's grandmother sitting at a table with the CEO and CFO of the firm where Steve worked and their wives. Astonished, Steve had said he hadn't even known Lydia was acquainted with them. The group had laughed. Lydia told him she'd known these two men and their wives since they were all toddlers sharing the same toys in a sandbox.Steve had suddenly understood how and why the.
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