That brings us back to where I left off in the story...back to the wine on Whitney's ocean view patio off his suite. I could tell my wife was feeling ...ood and I was feeling good. Whitney returned and poured us all another glass of wine. She excused herself to go freshen up. It was my opportunity to get a feel from Whitney where this might go. He watched her walk back to the bathroom and said "You are a luck man, son. That is one beautiful woman you have there." I thanked him and told him "She. I hit him with a can of paint while he was raping Miss Flossie.” Again, it was delivered like it was no big deal ... just information she might be interested in having.“Rape?” The word stuck in Marina’s throat. “Did you say rape?”“Yes Ma’am, except that I’m not sure he actually raped her. He was trying to when I hit him.”“Where is he, Nathan?” Marian’s voice was steady and calm now. She had kicked into competent Southern Wife mode. She might fall apart later, but right now she could deal with. More

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