Francesca set the book of Lord Tennyson poems, on the window seat and peered out of the plate glass window that faced Ortega Park. Living in a small studio second level apartment, she heard all the sounds that radiated up from the streets. Beneath her window on the street below a city sanitation truck was collecting garbage. She could hear the workers singing in Spanish, as music blared from a boom box that was strategically placed on the dashboard. She reflected on her dislike of fast-paced Mexican wedding music.
Why do I hate Mariachi?
As the truck pulled away the door buzzer sounded. Anticipating the arrival of her friends she pressed the button and heard an unexpected, but familiar voice.
"Frankie, are you in? Its Connie!"
Francesca had planned a day at the beach with Cookie and Ri
