24“HAPPY NEW YEAR, MAN,” Bobby said. They could hear the peal of the midnight bells from St. Ignatius, and the Episcopal and Methodist churches.
“Happy New Year, Tony.” Sara leaned in, hugged him, a buddy hug.
“Yeah,” Tony said. He was quiet, bitter, dejected. Happy fuckin new year, he thought. They were in the living room of the farmhouse. Noah was asleep upstairs. Earlier Linda had stopped by with Gina and Michelle, had stayed only long enough to exchange wishes. “I’m headin out,” Tony said. Then low, bitter, he quipped, “Three’s a crowd.”
“It’s goina be a good year, Man,” Bobby said. “I can feel it in my bones. I can really feel it. Tomorrow,” he paused, “today I guess, I’ll show you the plan.”
“Yeah,” Tony said. It was warm in the house, freezing outside, cold in the barn. “Right o
