Not having a phone number or knowing where she lived, I couldn't do anything.The weekend was still interesting. On Saturday Dad threw a party for his ...taff. True to family tradition, he, that is to say, we, cooked everything ourselves and Layla Patterson, his secretary, came over to help. She was a very good looking African American woman, somewhat younger than my dad, and there was something about her that made me think I should know her, but I couldn't place it. Dad solved the riddle while we. My rational mind knew what had happened, but the perception of the event was missing. I mused about the area of the brain responsible for this, but couldn't focus well enough to zero in on it. It didn't matter anyway. I wasn't going to overcome this by clinical objectivity. I was too far gone to think straight or to even experience emotions. I was mentally numb. I staggered to the end of the row of trees. My cadence steadied. The clip-clop of my strapless sandals as they flipped. More

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