Chapter 9

“Hey, pick whatever you want. Dinner was my idea, remember? So I’m paying. I’m gonna get two chicken enchiladas, refried beans, yellow rice. What about you?”

“Yeah, sounds good; I’ll get that, too. Good idea,” Henry hastily agreed. Maybe God was listening.He leaned back then, ready to listen to Jamey chatter, but was amazed to find himself talking with Jamey and telling him about being a foster child and his many sets of foster parents and the mysteries of his own parents, his leg scars (he even pulled up his pants to show Jamey) and the dog that bit him and what the guidance counselor had told him about his bad grades and no college…

As for Mexican food, not bad. The spiciness was surprising but okay.