"The key fit the discolored deadbolt lock, which turned with only a small amount of reluctance. Inside, it was musty and dark and clearly had sat shut...-up without being aired-out for some time. What little light filtered through the trees was further muted by the yellow-brown curtains on the windows. I wasn't sure that was their original color or just the result of decades of use.I reached for the light switch by the door and flipped it. Nothing happened."Wonderful," I muttered, pondering the. Lucky break for me, it was only two dayssince she sent the last letter, I didn’t think to look for one this soon. Iwent upstairs and scanned it , replaced it in the mailbox with the properpostage. Before I read it to find out what else my wife had done during herinfamous trip to Arizona, I got curious and started to search through herthings. I looked in her closet and there was the pair of white rhinestonedCowboy boots Alan had given her for her nite at the Bull Pen Bar in Stafford,there. I'd never really dealt with a child other than peers when I was one. There was Katie though. She was just shy of four and her questions were simpler, uncomplicated ones. I knew I couldn't talk to Michelle like I'd talked to Katie. That just wouldn't work.Peers don't count either. Questions didn't count when I was Michelle's age. We all shared in the questions and we had our friends to "discuss" our concerns with, rather than ask an adult for an answer.I was going to have to learn a skill real. Burkowitz, a notoriously weak hitter in the past, was batting ninth and had very little pop, but he was hitting .252. For Burkowitz, .252 was excellent."You deserve a lot of credit, B.J., for the way these guys are hitting. Especially Tough Shit Williams, and Burkowitz." You helped with Williams," he replied, "and Burkowitz? It's just pure luck he's hitting .250-something. It might not last." It'll last," I said. "The way we're playing, everybody's going to perform well. We're keeping each.