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“No, I don’t blame you, Harry,” Nadine rest her head down on the counter, “But I think you could’a told me sooner.”

“I know honey, and I’m sorry.” He flicked a lamp on, partially filling the room with weak yellow light. Nadine’s slender fingers drew perspiration down from her glass to trace shapes upon the lamination. The veins on her hand stuck out more than they used to.

“Does Bernice know?” she asked.

“Not yet. I thought I’d tell ‘er in the morning. Or maybe wait until she comes home next weekend.”

“You’ll call her in the morning.”

“I’ll call her in the morning,” Harry agreed. He opened a window, hoping for the cool night air. How long had he been promising to fix the screech that it made?

“And you tell that child everything.”

“Of course, honey, everything.”

“God, what luck we have.”

Harry walked over and laid his hands on Nadine’s slender shoulders. The starched cotton dress stood away from her body. It was just enough to let his hands slip under as he tried to ease the muscle.

She sat up. Her thumb idly twisting the wedding ring around her finger.

“So you got a plan or somethin’?”

“Workin’ on it. Frank said they might got somethin’ for me uptown – but too early to say.”

“Mmm.” Nadine sipped her drink.

“Don’t worry, baby, I’ll find somethin’.”

“I know, Harry,” she said, taking his hand, “I know.”

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