“I went to college. Got a master’s degree. Went to Quantico for training. Been chasing down bad guys.”She gave her grandmother a wry look. “You know, the usual girly stuff.”

“I only date college guys.”“You don’t know any college guys,” Kami pointed out.Angela’s gaze went to Kami, and she smiled. “Which leaves me with more time for napping.”

“She gave me this look – she might have been watching from a lifeboat as the ship went down. Or maybe it was the other way around.”

“She said I should pick the hall and the date and whatever I want, because it really doesn’t matter to her. That isn’t the point at all. Neither is that Dutch guy — I have nothing to be jealous of there. He’s probably dead already from an overdose or else he’s lying drunk on some sidewalk in Amsterdam, or he went and got a master’s degree in something, which sounds even worse. In any case, it’s not about him at all, it’s that time in Mombasa. For three months, a person sits and looks at you, imagining a kiss.”

“He looked as if he'd got a lot of pleasure out of going ten rounds with your grandmother and making sure she went the whole distance.”

“I didn't know why something that started off feeling so good had to wind up feeling so bad. Love was a big word and it covered a lot of territory. You could spend your whole life chasing after it and wind up with nothing, be an old bitter guy with long nose hair and ear hair and no teeth, hanging out in bars, looking for somebody your age, but the chances of success went down then. After a while you got too many strikes against you.”