On a Friday night in the middle of April, I was sitting behind the counter at Rollie’s, smoking my third Salem and trying in vain to not think about Molly.
Stubbing out my cigarette in the ashtray and walking to the front door, I was met there by Mike and Joyce. Unlocking and opening the door, I ushered them inside.
“Hey, guys, what’s up?”
“Nothing much,” Mike replied. “We were out for a walk and noticed you sitting in the dark.”
“Who’s watching the baby,” I inquired.
“Patty and Buddy are there,” Joyce smiled.
“Got time for a beer?”
“Sure,” Mike answered, looking at Joyce and getting a nod.
“Let’s go in the back,” I said, quickly walking towards the back room. I had to be careful around Joyce. Ever since I had that conversation with Mike, I could picture myself in bed with her when
