”He looked at me for a moment, before replying with a simple: “Yes.”I had caught her eyes when she rose from the bench, tugging the leather dres... down as she did so. I didn’t ask a question, yet her gaze answered any I might have uttered. Yes.--In the cabin she disappears into the bathroom, while I offer him a drink as we settle into the armchairs, opposite each other with a comfortable, thick rug on the floor between us. We chat about anything but the thing we await, as we wait.She comes into. He looked like he was wearing clothes his mother picked out for him for college. This was probably because he was wearing clothes his mother picked out for him for college.No, he didn't have on a cheap white dress shirt appropriate for a pocket protector. But if you put him in a lineup, ten out of ten girls would have identified him as the nerd."Hi, Jennifer. Been waiting long?" No. Just an appropriate amount of time. Jeff, this is Ashley."He stood to shake my hand. I think they used to do that. ”“I don’t follow?”“I’m told that when she got back from the Island she went straight to your place. She was there for almost two hours before she left. The private detective that I hired told me that she was crying when she left. She filled the tank of her car and then headed southwards towards the city. I received a note from her telling me where to store her gear. She left a forwarding address for mail which was a post office address. The manager of the storage yard opened up the storage. I knew that I could pick up a sandwich or something on the way in, and that I could pick up a shower and a change of clothes in the locker room that they kept for us global correspondents.Admittedly, I was still living out of a suitcase, but the jetlag from the Tokyo assignment was starting to wear off, and another more pervasive "problem" was to wear on me.I had been in Japan for three weeks, ostensibly to cover their baseball "world series", but in my spare time I had been writing a piece.