Goodbye to All That
“Richard swallowed several times, tightened the knot of his tie at his throat and squared his shoulders. He’d brought patients back from the edge of death. He’d restarted moribund hearts. Surely he could have a cup of coffee with Shari Bernstein without vomiting.
He and Doug had played golf on Saturday—probably their last outing on the links until spring. They’d worn fleece jackets for warmth, and they hadn’t indulged in drinks until they’d finished all eighteen holes and retired to the clubhous...e to thaw out. But the ground wasn’t frozen or covered with snow, so they’d played.
And talked.
Somewhere between the fourth and the seventh hole, Doug had told Richard that, according to Jill, Ruth intended to go out dancing that night. Doug might as well have swung a nine-iron into Richard’s gut. Dancing? Moving to the music in some other man’s arms?
Richard had been unable to conjure a picture of Ruth as he knew her, dependably familiar in her unflashy way, dressed in jeans, an old sweater and her battered leather loafers.MoreLess
He and Doug had played golf on Saturday—probably their last outing on the links until spring. They’d worn fleece jackets for warmth, and they hadn’t indulged in drinks until they’d finished all eighteen holes and retired to the clubhous...e to thaw out. But the ground wasn’t frozen or covered with snow, so they’d played.
And talked.
Somewhere between the fourth and the seventh hole, Doug had told Richard that, according to Jill, Ruth intended to go out dancing that night. Doug might as well have swung a nine-iron into Richard’s gut. Dancing? Moving to the music in some other man’s arms?
Richard had been unable to conjure a picture of Ruth as he knew her, dependably familiar in her unflashy way, dressed in jeans, an old sweater and her battered leather loafers.MoreLess
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