Clint was at the table set up beneath the awning, a white cloth around it, pink candles in a silver candelabra in the center. A bottle of champagne co...led in a silver bucket of ice. He rose, looking handsome and rakish in his black blazer and dark-blue, silk shirt, the top few buttons left undone. He had a hungry grin as Alicia flew to him.“Daddy, Daddy!” She threw herself into him, hugging his tall and powerful frame. “They came! They’re here!”“Yes, they are,” Clint said, staring at Melody and. And if you think I’m gonna get wrapped up in some sort of ménage a trois, you’re crazier than…” “Hold on, hold on,” Bob said. “First off, they’re not married. Or if they are, she’s a bigamist, ‘cause she’s still legally married to that slime ball shacking up with my granddaughter. Second, I don’t think she’s gonna dump one starving musician for another. And third, on some level at least, they really do love each other. Although I don’t think either of them realizes it. Or if they do, they’re. We would mark each day on the John Deere calendar. Sometimes a month. We kept all the old calendars. They told about our Dad. How long he was gone. When he came back. This time, from Independence Day to Labor Day... the longest ever from reading the calendars (our poor man's Farmer's almanac) we decided after talking, discoursing, arguing that Dad was gone... forever. But we watched for him for a long time after that.We found in the barn, in the loft, a box of books, mother's books. Eclectic.. " I don't know what you mean." I was completely puzzled."Hmmm. Well, just keep it to that there crop, and never more than a dozen in one session, alright?" Whatever you say." I was still mystified, but it did seem sensible to have an alternative to the zapper. Anything was better than those evil things. Then I had a thought. If I was going to sell or return this girl, how could I stop someone else abusing the zapper? If only I could arrange that, I could at least leave her with a gift worth.