Twenty-Six Years Ago
“Hi, Mitch.” It’s Frank, his solid frame leaning back against the bar. “How’re you doing?”
“Hi, Frank,” she smiles then pulls a face. “I can't hang around I'm afraid. I only popped in to pick up a couple of things.”
Angelo pops up from behind the bar, holding up a carrier bag; gold and green with an expensive designer logo. “This the one?”
“That’s right. I’ll take that one with me. Can you let me see the others too.” Angelo passes Mitch’s collection of bags across the bar and she squats on her haunches to sort through them.
“Going away for Christmas?” asks Frank. “Visiting family, I suppose?”
“Yes and No. Yes, I’m going away, but not to visit family.” She smiles brightly up at him. “Larry's taking me away somewhere.”
“Oh!” Hands in pockets, Frank rocks on his he
