Chapter 7
I brought the book about punk music to lunch the next day. I’d learned that emergencies at Vee’s firm could derail the best of intentions, so I came prepared. But I still had a few days before the school year started and was in no hurry. While I waited for him to show up, I ordered a cup of coffee and sat down at my favorite table.
I’d spent many hours at this place, Aunt Magda’s. It was a cozy café on the bottom floor of one of the residences in my neighborhood, and the current owner lived upstairs. Grampa told me Aunt Magda had been a real person who had opened her café long before the arrival of the Zoning Commission, and now it was an institution and no city official would ever dream of touching it. Her relatives owned the place now. They served the best coffee and baked th
