10
Jacob and Betsy Handler live in a spacious apartment near Lake Merced, not far from the University. I climbed out of the car and looked up at the façade. Small balconies jutted out from the structure and on the second floor, the French doors were open. Light spilled out onto the patio where two people stood chatting, wine glasses in their hands. Another woman leaned over the railing, staring down at the street. I found a parking spot in front of their building. We climbed out and Maggie turned to look at me over the roof of my car.
"This must be the place?" I nodded. Maggie smiled, "Does it bring back memories for you?"
"It certainly does." I locked the car and stepped around to the sidewalk. "It wasn’t that I didn’t enjoy these gatherings, but I just have memories of being constantl
