There Was a Time
Paul Martin’s cafe table basked in late-afternoon sunshine. He sat alone, sipping at a glass of Oregon Pinot Noir, eyes closed as he stared up into the lowering sun. A mini-Christmas tree adorned each table on the cafe’s patio, tiny LED lights barely visible in the bright sunlight. He’d been at this cafe in the neighborhood a handful of miles northeast of downtown San Diego a few years before. Kate had been with him then. It was her neighborhood. The…