I reached for a couple of cookies to go with the last of my coffee. The buttery crunch of nut cookies helped jog my memory of the events of May.
On Saturday, May the seventh, Arch had called me from John Richard’s house and asked me to come get him, since his father was “busy with a move.” When Marla had accompanied me to take Arch over for a golf lesson the next week, Sandee with two es had answered the door. Would Marla know the exact timing and rationale for the swap of one girlfriend for another? I made myself a note to ask. In any event, after the girlfriend switch, things had been fairly calm with John Richard, at least by Jerk standards, except for this obsession with teaching Arch to play golf, Tuesdays and Thursdays, one o’clock on the dot or risk being yelled at. Except for yest
