Week 1: Chapters 1, and 2 (pages 2-19—18 pages) See Chapters 1 and 2 –Exiting a plane, Diana Buchanan asks Wade Middleton’s help with a heavy saddle. He throws his back out. Guilt overcomes her conservatism; she drives him home. The next morning his friend Jorge Calderon comes seeking help at work. –When Diana asks Wade about his interest in poetry he reads her a poem about horses. She’s
Week 1: Chapters 1, and 2 (pages 2-19—18 pages) –Exiting a plane, Diana Buchanan asks Wade Middleton’s help with a heavy saddle. He throws his back out. Guilt overcomes her conservatism; she drives him home. The next morning his friend Jorge Calderon comes seeking help at work. –When Diana asks Wade about his interest in poetry he reads her a poem about horses. She’s not free to date, but they
Click to see: Summary of All Chapters 35 One Saturday, when I brought Eva back to Diana’s, she and I talked in her kitchen. “I’m hoping you’ll stick around for Christmas,” I said. “Amelia’s coming out. She wants to discuss ideas about what to do after graduation.” “I haven’t made plans yet.” Diana was dipping pieces of chicken in flour and placing them in a casserole dish. “By the way, I
Week 1: Chapters 1, and 2 (pages 2-19—18 pages) –Exiting a plane, Diana Buchanan asks Wade Middleton’s help with a heavy saddle. He throws his back out. Guilt overcomes her conservatism; she drives him home. The next morning his friend Jorge Calderon comes seeking help at work. –When Diana asks Wade about his interest in poetry he reads her a poem about horses. She’s not free to date, but they
Click to see: Summary of Preceding Chapters 32 The days went by in a blur. In addition to worrying about Eva and any relationship I had left with Diana, I had to screen my calls for reporters. A story, “Police Investigating Possible Murder Suicide,” was printed on page three of the paper the next day, but my name wasn’t in the article, thank God. Like one of those politicians gone wrong,
Click to see: Summary of Preceding Chapters 29 I was dreaming of Marita when the phone rang. Could it be her? She had said she’d call as soon as she could. But the images I’d been conjuring up faded when the caller identified himself as Sergeant Ames from the Palo Alto Police Department. Police? “Mr. Middleton?” he said, sounding professional. “We’d like you to come down to the station.” I
