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Ellen and I have been married for almost two years. It was a second marriage for both of us. She has two grown children and I have three. The youngest is 17, stays primarily with his mother and is pretty independent. That gives Ellen and I plenty of alone time. Before getting married, Ellen and I spent a good deal of time discussing what had gone wrong with our previous relationships.

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Annette sat alone at one end of the wobbly barroom table, wondering how she had let herself get talked into coming here. She didn't like noisy drunks, and she didn't like loud music. She didn't like alcohol, and she didn't like being flirted with by drooling morons. She didn't like her sister's friends, and, though she tried not to admit it, she didn't like her sister much either. She thought the feelings were mutual.

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