They want to kill me, I'm sure of it. Who are they? Friends of the man I shot? She shook her head. No, they're younger, that vulgar macaroni's pals, h...s friends. I'd bet on it. She nodded and fought to control her breathing, setting her gun aside.All they heard was the wind, the rustle of apple tree leaves and a few birds, cardinals mostly and then a mocking bird, showing off as usual. A shot and quickly another broke the spell, both nearby, hollow booms that made them jump. The women looked at. While Brad and I sat at the picnic table. It was the first time we had a chance to be alone and talk today. Brad had been out late last night, and I was zonked out from swimming, canoeing and our afternoon session in bed and was asleep when he came back and got in bed.The following day I could not help but ask, “So how did it go with Barbara last night?”“We have a problem, Mom.”“Oh my god, her father didn’t catch you, did he?”“I wish that were it. Then I think we would know how to handle. More

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