But something was different, and, whatever it was, Sandy seemed to be the only antidote. When she was nearby, when I could think about her, back there...behind me in the stands, the fear -- if that's what it was -- didn't take hold of me.Superstition? Was that all it was? Maybe. But I had never been superstitious. I'd never cared about mystical stuff; it had always seemed like bullshit to me. I certainly didn't worry about black cats, or stepping on the baseline when I left the playing field.But. I drove as there was no way I’d trust her car to go to lunch less cross the desert in, she wasn’t much with small talk but before we knew it the lights of the city were in sight. I checked us in and we made our way to our room. The first snafu only one bed, of course as it was my husbands and I room. I reached for the phone to ring the desk but she stopped me saying the bed is big as an island, we will be just fine. Tired I hesitantly agreed and put the phone down. Age, sonority or just a. More

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