Mike pushed his grandmother’s wheelchair into her hospital room and parked her near the big window that overlooked a pretty well-maintained flower garden below. Her grey hair had just been freshly cut and styled by the nursing home’s resident stylist. She sat quietly with her hands folded in her lap which had been covered with a throw blanket to keep her warm. “Where are you going?” She asked in her native language, her voice tired and raspy with age. Her white brows narrowing in her Roman Catholic glare of disproval. She did not approve of her grandson’s choice of lifestyle.
“I have a dinner engagement with an old friend Grandma.” He calmly answered in Spanish, immune to her disapproving stares.
“Not with that sinful w***e you brought home a few nights ago? She was very rude when I cal
