Bruno couldn’t get Jack’s last words from their conversation out of his head.
“We miss watching you play your video games, ma biche. Come home soon."
The forgiveness he felt from Jack’s words put a fire beneath Bruno’s feet; the week before his next appointment was dragging on like moldy maple syrup, stale & moving slowly.
Bruno found himself sopping up syrupy time at a bar a few blocks away. The old fashioned he was nursing bolstered his need to talk to someone. Would someone would notice the reeds in his eyes from the swamp back home? Would they take a chance, wade in the water a little?
Just as Bruno was ready to go, he caught a scent that took him back to his mother’s, on one of her many days of baking- Mexican vanilla.
“I know you!”
Bruno spun on his stool, turning to see the pretty secretary from the specialist’s office. Kay, he remembered she had written.
“Bruno, right?” She smiled like a picnic in the summer, watermelon on her lips, sun in her eyes. “I owe you a drink, I believe.”