XXVThe politician was late and no one cared. She hadn’t changed or even put deodorant on, the EMT was waiting in front of the one step up to the door of Luigi’s Restaurant across from the train station, just south of the firehouse. She had driven her car and parked almost in front of him. He was wearing a green sweater and cords, black shoes. He had not brought flowers, had thought about it and then thought the better of it.
“Hi,” Justine bit her lip nervously.
“I made reservations.” It was a reasonably priced in vogue restaurant that served Italian and American food. “I bussed tables here in high school.” He opened the door for her.
“I like the food,” Justine spoke, surprised to have butterflies in her stomach like a silly teenager. She had eaten the top sirloin once or twice at Luigi’
