Summer rain punctuated the tense silence between Sam and me on the way home. He clenched the steering wheel hard as if to hold it up while his gaze darted to the rearview mirror. His lead foot careened us around corners nowhere near the route toward home.

Sam - a thoughtful, brooding, funny package who snapped at random strangers in dance clubs - was a terrible driver. Especially when focused on something other than the wet city streets. What deal could he have had with that ...