She was a graduate student in Business, whichmeant she was a year older than me. She was sardined ("cozy", shecalled it) into a townhouse near the bus...ness school campus with fiveother Wall Street wannabes. Three bedrooms, six women, one bathroom.Yeah, that'll work...."That's not too far from me," I commented, perhaps more hopefully thaninformatively. "At least it's closer than this place." You don't live in your house either?" she queried, amazed at thecoincidence."Nope," I chirped. "I am. "What?" I said. "I screwed up with the protection and after I'd jumped all over you about Dean— you know, the clinic and all that and then I goof and make the same mistake."She laughed again. The rain stopped and she pulled into a service station."That's good timing," she said. "I need a coffee and we need to talk."The rain had stopped so we sat outside."Are you done apologising now?" Carol said.I guess I just looked blank, she had me so off balance that I had no idea what was going on. She. More

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