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"Could you hand me that blanket?" she says as she takes off Nick's shoes. "Yeah, sure," he answers getting the blanket from the cedar chest. "Thanks," she says taking it from him and spreading it over her boyfriend, pulling it up to his chest. She gets up to leave and he catches her hand, mumbling, "Where'r ya goin?"

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Every day for the past month Ashlee had lain soaking up the sun in the next door garden, turning from chicken skin white to Mediterranean bronze. And every day Anthony had peeked from the other side of the fence. So much time and effort had he put in mowing that particular patch of lawn, the grass resembled the shaven snatch that latterly had been revealed when she thought he wasn't there. Or maybe she did know he was there. Yeah, she knew all right.

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