“Are you okay?” Dad asked.
“Just nervous about tomorrow.”
“The meet or the commercial?” He took a bite of his $7.99 entrée and another sip of sangria from the $20.00 pitcher.
“Both.” I could hardly wait for morning. After speaking with Eric Spidderman, I had some questions for the Macon Charter people I doubted I’d have the guts to ask. Actually, I couldn’t wait for the whole thing to be over. Something I’d so been looking forward to was now just another complication.
My salad was pretty much untouched when the check came. As planned, Cal pounced. “Let me.”
“No,” my father said. “I insist. We got our hotel room comped and our plane fare covered. We really haven’t paid for anything yet.”
“I really want to.” Cal’s performance was Oscar worthy. “I’m so proud of Wats and all he’s accompl
