I stayed home all Saturday, trying to work up the courage to call Molly and argue my case. “What if she wouldn’t talk to me,” I thought. “What if she hangs up on me?” How would I get a chance to say anything? Maybe go over there and knock on the door? “Naw, f**k that!”
That was my thinking all day. Finally, after dinner with my mom, I stumbled into Rollie’s. I sat down behind the counter, taking a pat on the back from the Fat Man on his way out.
Most of the guys were there, some shooting pool, a couple sitting out front, and the rest out back drinking beer. After about ten minutes, Augie came in through the back door, sat at the table next to the counter, and lit up a Winston.
“Where’s Larry and Mike?” I asked, lighting up one of my Salems and blowing a plume of smoke.
“I talked to Lar
