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Charlie
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I worked at my uncle’s restaurant until nine, and we were swamped. By the time I walked out of the place, my feet hurt from the heels I’d worn all day and I had a slight headache. On the way home, I picked up a bottle of wine and called Jackie to see if she wanted to drop by and go swimming in the new pool.
“Is your dad home?”
“I don’t know,” I replied. “I’m just getting off of work.” I smiled. “You really don’t like him, do you?”
“No, that’s not it,” she said quickly. “I was just wondering if he was going to be there with his goony friends.”
“You mean his ‘Mafioso’?” I said dryly.
“Do you really think he’s mixed in with them?”
“I don’t know, nor do I care anymore. I’m outta here soon.”
“Did you get a response from any of the other schools yet?” she
