Chapter 7
“Deal ‘em!” Cal chewed on a Red Vine. Greg had brought a fat plastic bucket of the damned licorice whips and they’d all been chowing down on them.
The big round table in the center of the closed bakery looked like a bomb had exploded on it. They were playing around the corners of a couple of well-decimated pizza boxes from Carrier Pigeon Pizza, which didn’t deliver despite their name, except to Cal. It had been part of the deal he worked out because they used his big mixer when making up fresh batches of dough and he made all of their garlic bread. It wasn’t a real burden as they were only two doors apart, sharing a covered porch with the Bobbin’ Red Robin Tavern in between.
None of them were heavy drinkers any more, but it was Friday night and each had a beer and an empty or
