“You went to 7-11 to get coffee? It’s like four o’clock in the morning.”
Derrick had planned to throw out the cup, of course. He had planned on tiptoeing back up to his room unnoticed, the more convincingly to be “awakened” by his shrieking nieces and nephews in an hour or two when the anticipation eventually propelled them from their beds. He had tucked eight little bundles of twenties back into eight little stockings as he re-stuffed them, then crept into the kitchen to pitch the empty Styrofoam cup. What he had not planned on was coming across Lee and Chad there, laughingly struggling with the cork on what did not appear to be their first bottle of red wine.
“What are you doing up, Meat Ball?” Lee asked. He crossed the room and put his giant hands against Derrick’s cold-prickled chee
