When the waiter cleared our plates and poured fresh coffee, Douglas pushed his wooden chair back.

He gestured toward the open glass doors leading out to the terrace.

“Walk with me out to the veranda, George,” Douglas said.

“Let the kids have a moment to themselves.”

We stepped out onto the wide stone patio overlooking the south golf course.

The September air carried a slight chill under the green canvas awning.

Douglas walked over to the thick stone railing and rested his elbows on the flat rock.

He pulled a silver cutter from his vest pocket and prepared his cigar with quick, practiced motions.