The only reason I wasn't still hitting over .400 in late May was that a funny thing had happened to me after I'd gotten my cheekbone smashed. Somethin... -- I wasn't sure just what -- was off. Just a little off, but enough that my hitting had become unreliable.I really thought that Sandy had brought me out of it with her Magic Box, but now -- I wasn't so sure."You still there?" She startled me. It was Sandy, still on the line, waiting for the answer to her question about who did I think I was. I. Several lush ivy plants sat near the window to enjoy the light. Decor just as tasteful and sexy as himself. On a window sill was an old black and white postcard of a couple locked in a romantic embrace. a beautiful, passionate kiss. On the back of the postcard names and phone numbers were scribbled in his neat, male handwriting. Everyone who was important to him was on that card, he told me. I new my name and number still resided on a scrap of paper from our first meeting at the bookstore. More

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