Chapter 31

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The ambiance of the restaurant tried to suggest the nostalgia of an earlier, more innocent time, when girls tied their pony tails with gauzy scarves, wore poodle skirts and saddle shoes, and boys who wanted to look tough styled their hair with the sides combed back to resemble a duck’s ass. It was dimly lit and seemed even darker because of the paneling covering the walls. The management wasn’t too disturbed by all the kids who were with us.

“I called ahead to let them know,” Uncle Steve said, striving for jovial. “We’ve quite a brood.”

“Yeah.”

It was Monday and not at all crowded, so they just seated us in a corner of the restaurant that put some distance between their other patrons and us.

I lingered behind, and spoke quietly to the hostess. “I get the check. Is that understood?” I smiled at her.

She swallowed. “Yes, sir. No problem.”