Dad gave him a man hug, and Luis held him like a long-lost brother. I was happier than the ending of an awful, sappy Hallmark movie. Name one, any one, if you can. It doesn’t matter. I had sobered up considerably, having, um, exercised with Mickey, followed by gulping down three espressos from my parents’ machine. So I didn’t allow for much greeting time. “Hey, boys, it’s time to go play some pool. Let’s vamos.” Luis laughed. “Amiga, you speak just like a native.” I knew he was kidding. “Bueno. Chop chop.” “Annabelle, darling, what is your hurry? That place will be open for at least another couple of hours, and, holy crap, Mickey just got here, and I think we should all chat for bit, don’t you, Mickey?” Mom squeezed his hand. “Sylvia, there’s nothing I would rather do than sit and chat, but my partners here, it’s their case, and they’re in charge.
