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I couldn’t figure out why it wasn’t cold. My lungs weren’t hurting particularly. I knew what had happened. I was dead. The murk was just the mess I’d made of my life. Maybe I would have eternity to clear it up. For some reason I remembered just when I’d lost Hope.My mid-life crisis hit the day I realized thirty-three was half-way through my life expectancy. Of course, technically, having already survived Viet Nam, I should have had a much longer life expectancy than the sixty-six that was estimated in 1982, but apparently I had seriously over-estimated.At thirty-three, I’d just been promoted to full partner and celebrated by buying a brand new bright yellow Mustang convertible. I moved to a new apartment in a trendy part of town where I could hold huge parties for young, equally trendy people. There was just one thing missing in my life, and I went hunting for a beautiful, young, and trendy girlfriend. Hope springs eternal.Hope was her name.We met at the top of Mt. Si on a Saturday. He seemed to know, somehow, when most of the children would be down for a nap, and Renee would have more than fifteen seconds to talk. He was popular with the kids who weren’t sleeping, some of whom knew him and called him “Uncle Bobby”, even though they were from different families. He played horsy with them, or helped them with whatever they were working on or playing with.He looked like any young father playing with his kids.Bobby was lying on his bed, reading, when there was a tap at his door. It opened slightly.“Are you alone?” came Suzie’s voice.“Yeah,” he said, grinning.She stuck her head in, apparently looking to make sure.“Why would anybody be in here?” he asked, teasing her a little.“I know what you do in here!” she snorted.“Is that why you’re here?” he teased.“Of course not,” she said placidly. “I already told you that.”“I know,” he said. “I was just teasing you. What’s up?”She came in. The fact that she felt comfortable sitting on the edge of the bed might have had.
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