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He smelled it. It was black, strong, bitter coffee that he sipped at slowly. She smiled gently at his expression and brushed over some sugar and cream thoughtfully so like her mother. First one packet, then two. He stirred itidly watching the dance floor slowly thin out at a slow dance. He lifted the hot cup to his lips and drank the entire contents of the cup in three swallows. Bitter coffee. That happened in the city when the pipes were old. Copper pipes. Sugar & cream on a table in a dance club. A slow movement caught his eye as he stared trying to fathom his fear in the empty cup on the table in front of him. She rewound the scarf from her throat as she sat, looking calmly at him and waiting. From her shoulder to the clavicle was a familiar looking scar. (‘Plastic surgery can correct that. But I’m afraid that in her mind, you will always be someone she hates. Only time can heal that wound. And her willingness to admit what happened.’) Before him stood the boy with the white. At 4:30 I called her again to see what she was doing, and she informed me that she was all ready and dressed as requested. I told her I would soon be on the way home. After I hung up the phone I called a pizza delivery service and ordered a large combination pizza to be delivered to our house. Although we had never ordered from them before I knew they would have it delivered around 5:00. A few minutes before the pizza should arrive I drove home and be parked across the street and down a couple houses so I could get a clear view when Stacey opened the door.The timing was perfect and a few minutes before five the delivery driver pulled up to the front of the house in a beat-up old car with one of those magnetic pizzeria signs on the roof. The guy was in his mid twenties and more than a little overweight. As he walked up to the front door I held my breath while waiting to see what would happen. He rang the door bell and without first looking out to see who was there, my wife opened the.
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