Howard and I are at a beach. A high hill across the inlet has some people on it. They are throwing toy boats or planes around. One lands in the shallow water near me. I wade in and am surprised the water is so warm. Howard and I go for a wade, only it turns out not to be the ocean but a parking lot. As we walk, I tenderly touch the white shirt he is wearing. I touch the arm as a gentle way to be connected or close. It feels very nice. Now I have to go pee. We go into a public bathroom. I am surprised we are both in the same one. He says it's ok. I go to the other side of the room, still concerned about the mixed sexes in one bathroom. I pee, but the toilet is loose and wiggles around. I notice it is a galvanized metal tub I am peeing into. I wonder who will have to clean up that mess. Charla joins us and we go on with the walk. We are in a church. Howard says he'd like to go there some day. I ask what kind of church it is, and he says "scholarship" or something academic. Now we are walking down a street and some drunk and disorderly people are driving in a dangerous way toward us. Howard had been drinking beer and he started getting belligerent back at them. I walk away, deliberately calling him Jared, which upsets him, as I knew it would. He resented being compared with his father. He leans up to me and says, "I'm not the only one who has faults." I sigh and agree. "I know," I say. "I have them too." Now we are seeing a counselor. We begin to talk, to try and work out our differences. I say, "But it isn't only that. There are so many things we'd have to change." It is too much.