Woody Gets a Set Down That evening he went to The Club, but she wasn't there and no other woman present caught his eye. No one else came close to what he wanted, so he stopped in the restaurant and had his usual steak. Where was she tonight? On the way home he took a detour to check out her apartment building. He'd gotten the address from Mrs. B, of course. Driving slowly by the place he felt like a stalker again, but he had to know where she was, if she was home, who she was with. It was worrying that she thought she could handle herself. She seemed to think she had everything sewn up. Of course he thought he knew everything too when he was her age. So what did the prim Ms. Miller do with her evenings? Why she hadn't come back for more at The Club? Like he didn't make her happy? Maybe he was out of practice. And just like that, questions about this unsuitable, difficult young woman had begun to monopolize his thoughts. * * * * "You need to get out on a date," her brother had exclaimed merrily over beer and pizza in his kitchenette one night.
