CHAPTER TEN
“C’mon, Mo, we’re gonna be running late!” Tommy Jackson yelled through the bathroom door, looking at his watch. It was six PM Sunday evening, and he told Orrin he and Maureen would be coming by at seven.
They lived on the Lower East Side, not far from Delancey Street, but Tommy had a thing about punctuality. They had sent the kids to Maureen’s parents for the evening, and had picked up some wine and cheese as a gift for the Rampersads. They were only about twenty minutes away and probably wouldn’t have any traffic problems on a Sunday night.
“I’m just doing my hair and my makeup. I’ll be right out,” she called back.
“What do you mean, doing your hair? Your fuckin’ hair’s straight!” he bellowed, then sat down and turned on the TV.
“Why are you turning on the TV?” She came o
