“How are you feeling?” I said, looking over at Penelope. She smiled.“I’m fine now. Thanks for asking,” she said. She seemed surprised that I...would care how she felt. And that surprised me; she had to know that as angry as I was, and remained, in terms of our relationship since the divorce et al, that I did not hate her enough to want to see her savaged by disease or injury or any of it. I nodded.“So,” said Grant. “Ideas?”“Zoe lives with me for the next seven years; then, we split the time even. After she had gone the older pedal biker asked, "You from around here?" No, and I don't think you are either," I suggested."No, we are from New Jersey," the younger of the two riders said."You guys have pedaled a long way," I commented."Yes and my legs know it," the younger one continued."I could never handle that. I am on a Sprint Moped," I said."Oh it must be rough to be hated by everyone on the road," The female Toyota driver said. She was obviously the older man's wife. "Damn that didn't. More

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