“Me too.” said his son, Evan. Jeff didn’t move for what seemed to be an eternity then turned slowly to face her. Their eyes met but he didn’t...say anything. The desperation on his face was plain enough. She knew the hand he had and knew how much he’dalready lost. She slowly nodded to him. Her heart was racing, she didn’t know if it from the thrill of their impending win or the danger of the situation. She moved and stood behind Jeff. “Ok, all in to show,” said Pete. Evan and Bill laid down. Yet I must do something.The answer comes from my buddy Hal. He is the smartest guy on the track team, a biochemistry major with a 3.9 GPA.Hal and I are comparing the stuff we are doing in class. He tells me about his research project on pheromones used by female dogs when in estrus. Yes, the correct term for female dogs really is “bitches”. These pheromones signal the male dogs to mount a fertile bitch. The response of the male is pretty automatic.I confide in Hal about my problems with Phoebe.. I could understand that and I said OK when I get out of work where would you like to meet. She chose a bar in a small bowling alley in a neighboring town. To my surprise when I got there she was not alone and I found myself in an awkward situation. Her adult son and his wife were there and her 18 yr old daughter with her boyfriend. The daughter and Laura were playing billiards. After introductions I ordered a beer and played pool with her. While we were playing Laura's son said he had to get up. There was no tension in her body, as I knew there was in mine. I was willing to bet she was smiling, and if she could have closed her eyes and taken the wave in that way, she would have. I did pretty well until something bumped my board and I lost my train of thought. I shifted and tried to compensate, and ended up going under the water. I came up laughing. Not bad for someone who hadn’t surfed in years, I thought, and I turned around to do it again. I did that I don’t know how many times, and.