OK, call me a juvenile jerk, but that phrase -- "three days of 69s" coming from Tess' lips -- resonated with me for all the wrong reasons. (I know, I ...now. That's puerile.)The practice round went pretty well, although neither Tess nor her two playing partners could break par that day. Tess had a 74 and so did one of her playing partners. The other one posted a 76.Tess spent another 90 minutes after the round on the driving range, working with her three-wood and long irons. As always, I stayed. We walked in silence down the tree-lined streets, holding each other’s hand, each grieving in our inner solitude. We spoke of what happened the day I died. Why she left before I awoke (three days later). The devastation I faced due to her absence. I told her what memories my Swiss cheese brain had of the events of that fateful day, and we walked on. She spoke of the ultimate joy she felt as new life grew inside her and the crushing loneliness she felt because she couldn’t trust me to share the. More

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