" Richard threw back his head and laughed. "My dad was a
great guy--could barely read, always singing. He worked on the docks."
"Hi, Richard." A thin woman approached. She had dark eyes and bleached
blonde hair pulled into a tight pony tail.
"Hi, Sally. How are you?"
"O.K."
"Do you know Oliver?"
"Seen you around," she said, appraising him. Oliver felt about a four
out of ten, maybe a three.
"Sally works at Mercy Hospital. That cigarette isn't doing you any
good, you know."
"Nag, nag, nag."
"You got one for me?" Richard lit up the room with his smile.
"Oh, Richard!" Sally felt in her purse with one hand.
"What are you drinking?" Richard asked.
"I'll see you guys," Oliver said, sliding to the end of the bench and
standing. Sally took his place. "Thanks for the eats, Richard."
"Stay warm," Richard said.
A plow rumbled by, as Oliver stepped out into the storm. He followed it
along the white empty street. He considered stopping at Giobbi's
Restaurant, but he turned up Danforth and walked to State Street where
he lived in a second floor apartment on the last block before the
Million Dollar bridge.
Verdi was waiting. He jumped from the window sill and made a fuss
bumping against Oliver's legs.
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